Every Now and Then
by aliasaurorasaccounthasmoved
Summary: Every now and then a story deserves a happy ending. Here's my version of Ed and Al's. EdWin fluff, some Royai implied and AlxOC, rating changed from T, for language. COMPLETED, read it now before it falls into obscurity. Sequel is up !
1. Homecoming

**Instead of writing a few long chapters as I tend to do with my stories for Twilight, this fic for FMA will be a series of very short--I don't know what to call them exactly--chapters, I guess-- and there'll be one coming out every other day or something close to that. **

**This is my version of what it would be like if Al got his body back and both the boys came home to Winry and Granny Pinako for good. I don't know how it's going to turn out but I can tell you that the next several chaps aren't much longer than this one and that's how it'll be (unless I find a serious need to do a long one, I don't know exactly). **

**I'm rambling. let me just get to the fic before this AN gets longer than the fic itself.**

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A pair of blond boys walked down a long country road. One was very skinny, taller, and munching on a partially-eaten bread roll; the other was slightly shorter and holding in his left hand a mostly-destroyed metal right arm that appeared to have been ripped from his shoulder by some great force. The boys walked slowly, on account of the fact that the taller boy seemed to have lost a great deal of muscle mass in his legs and was leaning heavily on the shorter. The pair passed by the ruins of a burnt home whose lot had been for whatever reason not cleared since its destruction, and both the boys' smiles faded slightly as they saw it.

The smiles returned when the boys caught sight of the next house over, and a dog with one metal leg looked up, barked once, and ran inside the open front door, returning shortly with a very old woman coming to investigate her pet's excitement. For a moment she stared at the boys, seeming as if she did not know how to react, then she turned around and ran inside and upstairs to rouse the teenager sleeping upstairs with a loud call of "Winry! Come quickly!"

"Huh?" she murmured sleepily, stirring and sitting up to peer out the window beside her bed. When she saw the two boys she gaped for a minute, then jumped up and rushed out onto the balcony in her nightgown. "Al?" she called out, and the skinnier boy looked up at her, and the shorter looked a second later. "Oh, my God!" she squealed, and left the balcony to rush down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and speed outside and into the lawn barefoot, eyes streaming, and embrace both of the boys in a crushing hug. "I can't believe it! You got your body back, Alphonse!"

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**And by the way, I don't own FMA. Hiromu Arakawa thought of it first... -sigh- By the way I've read up to chapter 91 on onemanga, so if you're not as far as I am you might wanna get there, because when Ed gets around to explaining how Al got his body back I'm going to be as up-to date with the manga as I can be. And in case you haven't figured it out, this is the _mangaverse_. I think the anime's ending is crappy and disheartening, so that's that. **

**Also, once the continuation of the manga comes out, if it doesn't match up with my version I won't be changing mine. This fic picks up at Ch. 91 and that's that.  
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**(None of my ANs will be as long as this one, I swear!) **


	2. Skinny

**I know I said there will be a chapter posted every other day, but this second chapter will be posted at the same as the first, despite what I said. I just wanted there to be a little more meat to my fledgling story, you understand?**

**The next chapter can be expected on Wednesday the 14th. **

**And, of course, I don't own FMA. Hiromu Arakawa does. **

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"I can hardly believe it either," Al admitted, and Winry listened to the sound of his voice, which sounded different than it had when he'd been only ten years old.

"I'm so happy for you guys!" she gushed, releasing Ed and Al from her grip and wiping her eyes, though it didn't stop her joyful tears.

"You're crying," Ed pointed out.

"I know!" she said, and laughed as a memory struck her. "Your promise."

Ed grinned. "I did keep it, didn't I?"

"How?" she whispered seriously, her eyes searching both of their faces for answers. "How did you do it?"

"Goodness," said Granny Pinako, who had just reached the knot of teenagers with Den faithfully at her heels. "Al, it's amazing you got your body back, but you're shockingly skinny."

"I know he is," said Ed. "We got off at practically every train stop to buy him food, he was so hungry. Look, he's already finished the bread roll we bought in town just before we walked here." It was true; Al was chewing on the last bite of it as Ed spoke.

"S'not my fault," Al said, almost defensively. "I haven't eaten in nearly five years."

Those words sobered Ed, who stared at the ground. "It shouldn't have taken that long," he mumbled. "My fault. Sorry."

"How?" repeated Winry breathlessly, still hardly able to comprehend. "How did you bring him back?"

"It's complicated," Ed hedged, and Al looked off into the distance for a minute.

"Then you can tell us all about it while we feed Al," said Granny Pinako decidedly, and she turned around and headed back inside, followed by first an eager Al, then Den, and finally Winry, who hung back, trying to get control of her tears, with Ed, who walked beside her to keep her company.


	3. Broken Automail

**Okay, here's today's "chapter." Should I be calling them drabbles or segments or... what? This is going to irritate me if I don't figure it out. **

**I don't own FMA, Hiromu Arakwa does. And if I was her, I'd be busy writing and drawing Chapter 92 of FMA instead of lazing around writing mediocre fanfiction. **

**Hey, like 25 people read the first chapter and nobody reviewed! -sits on the floor and throws a tantrum- Don't you people make me become one of those people who trolls incessantly for reviews!**

**Next chapter will be published on Friday, January 16. Unless I get impatient and post it on the 15th. Believe me, on the 13th I was having trouble holding back, knowing it was already written and ready to go. But no, I persevered! (Also, I had homework... Yay, distractions!)

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When Winry didn't say anything at first, Ed held up his broken automail and offered it to her. "Maybe this is a bad time to point it out, but…"

She recovered from her tears instantly, snatched the arm from him, then whacked him over the head with it. "You broke my automail _again_?!"

"Ow!" he complained, and she hit him again. "Sorry!"

"Do you know how hard I work to make your automail perfect?! And then you just go and ruin it on a whim—dammit!" She had tried to hit him a third time, and he'd ducked just in time.

"It's not my fault!" he protested.

Winry got in another whack. "How so?" she demanded.

"It's… complicated!" he shouted, struggling for words. This just irritated Winry more, and she hit him again, starting to lose count of how many times she'd done it.

"You broke the damn automail and you won't even tell me why?!"

"Ow—! Winry, for the sake of all that is holy, _stop hitting me!_" Giving up on her, Ed sped up and sprinted towards the house, but this hardly helped his cause because as soon as he started running Winry heard the sound of metal bearings scraping painfully against each other and knew that he hadn't been taking very good care of his leg, either.

"You—!" she growled in frustration, and chased Ed inside.


	4. In the Kitchen

**Woohoo, I managed to wait until the 16th! Y'all don't know just how much of an achievement that is for me, honestly. **

**Next week's midterm week for me, so during the long weekend I'm going to probably get like twelve segments of this done so that I can upload them real quick on their proper days without having to be on my computer for a long time while I oughta be studying. **

**I don't own FMA, Hiromu Arakawa does, I'm using her characters and plot and stuff to fashion my own fan-created story based on her work.

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Al was already sitting at the table, chowing down on a bowl of cold leftovers because he'd been too impatient to wait for the rice and dumplings Granny was now making. Ed wasn't in the room.

Winry put down the ruined automail arm on a blank space on one of the Rockbells' many workspaces and crossed her arms, scanning the kitchen for a sign of Ed hiding somewhere. "Where did he go?"

Al shook his head with his lips pressed together. "Brother ran in and told me you were on a murderous rampage and I am not to tell you where he is at all costs."

"Maybe you should go put on some clothes before you go chasing him all around the house," suggested Pinako. Winry looked down at herself and remembered that she was wearing the nightgown she'd slept in.

"Is he hiding in my room?" Winry queried Al.

He shook his head again. "Maybe, maybe not," he said carefully, then distracted himself with his food so he wouldn't have to meet Winry's analyzing gaze.

"Why would he hide in your room?" asked Pinako, perplexed.

"Because it's the last place I'd look," she said while watching Al carefully for signs of wavering and, finding none, headed upstairs and opened the door to her bedroom, peering carefully around.

"Ed," she whispered loudly, "If you're hiding in here like that one time I found you… _I'm going to murder you!_"


	5. Hiding

**This one is the shortest so far, I think. Also, it's late in the day compared to the others. My fault. . But it's okay, I think, because there's at least the added bonus that this one is particularly fluffy, and since that is the main objective of this story, it's all good. ^^'**

**I don't own FMA, Hiromu Arakawa does. **

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_Dammit_, Ed thought in his hiding-place under her bed. _Al told me this is the last place she'd look! _He didn't dare peek out from under the bed, relying on the sound of Winry's footsteps to tell him when she left.

But she didn't leave, as Ed waited and waited, and for some reason he heard the sound of cloth moving, so, unable to help himself, he peeked out and caught sight of Winry with her back to him, leaving the room (finally!)—but he realized that she wasn't wearing the same clothes she'd come in with—and his first thought was a chagrined_, "Damn, I can't believe I missed that!"_ followed immediately by, _"What the hell is wrong with me?!"_ and shortly thereafter, _"I wonder if Riza was right about me." _

He thought of the night he'd sat down with Riza and she'd told him her version of what had happened in Ishbal, and she'd asked: "You love Winry-chan, don't you?"

Edward sighed, and with some difficulty due to the fact that he was short a limb, he crawled out from his hiding place and stood up, brushing his black pants off with his left hand, and walked out of the room, stepping carefully around the nightgown Winry had thrown carelessly to the floor in her haste to leave and go back to searching for him—oh, the irony!


	6. A Bullet's Point of Entry

**A'ight.... I'm too impatient! Here's the next installment, a day early. **

**It's snowing here in Maryland! It hasn't snowed AT ALL for the entire winter except once back in November, and now I can finally see flurries coming down! Woohooo! That can be my excuse for publishing the chapter a day early—I'm celebrating! Also, celebrating Martin Luther King Day, since I have no school today. _(Runs off for a marathon of reading like 150 chapters of Inuyasha)_**

**Hey, people, I want some reviews!** **80 people have read at least the first capter, and of those 80, 1 reviewed. Honestly, what's your damage, people?**

**I don't own FMA, Hiromu Arakawa does.**

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"You better tell me where he went!" Winry was saying. "I don't care how happy I am that you're human again, I swear I'll—Ed!" She stopped lecturing a bewildered Al and chucked a wrench at Ed, who had just walked in, but he dodged it, so she threw two more in quick succession, shouting, "Two for flinching!"

"Can we get past the beating and get on with repairing my automail?" he pleaded, rubbing the sore spot on the crown of his head.

"Fine, but while I'm working you'd better be telling me this story," she said with a sigh, walking over to him and pressing a release button which detached the destroyed part of his upper arm from which a few feeble wires still hung. He sat down in the chair where he'd dropped his red cloak upon running inside, and watched her as she turned the piece of automail in her hands, deciding how much of it could be rescued and how much of it was rubbish.

"Was someone shooting at you?" she asked in alarm as she took a closer look at the break point and noticed a semicircular chunk missing from the bicep plate. "This looks exactly like a bullet's point of entry…" Winry looked up from the automail and gave Ed a look.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand in a gesture of awkwardness. "Sorry, but there was a lot going on… battle royale… we're lucky it was the automail and not me!" He was getting defensive in response to her accusing expression.

"I told you two not to die, so what do you do? You go and get yourselves shot at!" Winry growled in frustration and went to the workbench where she'd left the rest of Ed's arm, then grabbed a screwdriver and started taking a part the whole thing, sorting the parts into piles of what was reusable and what was useless scrap metal.


	7. Starting the Story

**Because yesterday's installment was a _bonus_, here is the scheduled fic for today. I don't own FMA, next one'll be posted Thursday, please review and all that jazz. ^^**

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Al was done eating the leftovers Granny had given him and now was peering eagerly over her shoulder at the new food she was making. Ed was leaning over the back of the chair to look at Winry work.

"We didn't die, though. And Al's even come back more alive than when he started. Why're you getting so worked up about that one little bullet hole? And I thought you wanted to hear the story."

"I _do_ want to hear the story. Tell it to me now, while I'm busy. Actually, you need to lose your pants, Ed—I heard your leg making a weird noise earlier."

"I noticed that, too," he said, and from behind her she heard the sound of cloth moving as he removed his pants without embarrassment and sat back down in the chair in his boxers. "Well, how much do you know so far? I caught you up to as much as I knew when I met you here last time…"

"When you were with Lin."

"Well, Greed actually… but yeah."

"So then you all left, and… what happened? What about the 'promised day' thing?"

"Well, it's all kind of complicated, but I guess I'll try to explain basically what happened…"


	8. Al's Battle with Pride and Kimblee

**Y'all should totally give me loads of reviews today, you know that? I need some cheering up after what happened today: This week's midterms, as I've mentioned in passing in an earlier AN, and today the two tests I had to take were chem and pre-calc. Now, chem wasn't so bad; my teacher's as excellent a teacher as she is a strict slave driver, but pre-calc on the other hand.... "Aaargh" is all I can say. My teacher couldn't teach a mathematician to count; she'd be like, "So what you want to do is, in terms of how to go about counting, is in terms of what you're supposed to be doing, is that the numbers you are counting, in terms of what you're doing, the numbers ought to be numerical, in terms of what kind of numbers they are." Yeah, that's my impression of my pre-calc teacher teaching someone to count.**** (She actually says "in terms of" that many times in one sentence. I have a tally on the front of my notebook. Her record's 65 or so "in terms of"s in one 90-minute class period.) **** Notice she didn't actually say anything we couldn't already figure out with simple logic--notice there aren't even any actual numbers involved at all! Okay, now noticing all that, try to imagine this woman teaching things like sigma notation, arithmetic and geometric sequences, and how to convert radians into degrees, and it shoudl become clear to you why my pre-calc midterm would have been better had it been administered to those monkeys with typewriters writing Shakespeare. **

**So, haha, please review (if you haven't died of boredom by the time you've reached this far). Actually, I've changed my mind--even you dead people shold review, okies? And by the way, everyone, I don't own FMA, Arakawa-san thought of it first. **

**Next chapter is pretty long! See you on the 24th.**

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"So… Alphonse was controlled by Selim Bradley the homunculus?"

"Yes."

"And you and everybody in your little 'company' fought the homunculi."

Ed twitched upon hearing the word "little," but he did not move because he didn't want to disturb Winry, who had his leg open and about seventeen million little pieces of machinery strewn about in organized chaos on the floor around her. "Yes, that's right."

"Pride 'absorbed' Gluttony."

"Yes."

"And your father trapped Pride and Alphonse in a mound of dirt?"

"Right. I was mad about that." Ed shot a short-lived glare towards his brother.

"But Pride got out of the freaky dirt mound. How?"

"Pride had my head and he had a stick, and he tapped out a signal in Morse code through the earth," said Al, who was now eating Granny's cooking so fast Winry was half worried he'd accidentally swallow one of the chopsticks. "Then Kimblee came and freed Pride. Before he died because of Kimblee, Heinkel gave me the incomplete Philosopher's Stone that was formerly Kimblee's. I didn't want to use it at first…" Al looked down in shame, "but they gave me no choice in the end. I resealed Pride in the mound, and seriously injured Kimblee, but he got away at the last second, while I was distracted with Pride. After that, I had no choice but to wait, since if I left Pride could find a way to escape, or Kimblee could come back."

"So you've waited next to a big dirt mound for the past three months?" Winry asked.

"Not exactly," he said, and looked to his brother expectantly.


	9. Underreaction

**Kyahhhh.... This story Ed's telling is dragging on way longer than I thought it would. I think, for the sake of not dwelling in the past too much, I'll time-skip next chapter until after this long and tedious explanation is over. In other words, I'll let my readers fill in the blanks themselves. I am more excited to let the grim and gruesome things be over with so I can get on to the promised happily-ever-after which is the real purpose of ENAT. Sorry if any of my readers is upset with me for glossing over my version of the rest of the story, but... well, tough luck... for at least in _my_ happily-ever-after tale, nobody dies, (and I have a feeling the ending of the real FMA is going to involve some character death... definitely.)**

**So, next chapter, instead of another big long explanation, it'll just be directly after the story's ended. Hey, don't get mad at me for being lazy; you readers are so lazy you don't even review! -glare-**

**A'ight! Next chap's on the 26th, see you then!**

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"I'm getting to what happened with Al, if you'd let me finish," said Ed impatiently. "While Al was inside the dome, and we'd left Marcoh, Yoki, and Heinkel behind and Lin—Greed had left, we went to Central, to go to the underground place where that 'Father' guy was hiding. Hohenheim and Ran Fan went off on their own when we split into two groups, and then Scar…" Ed seemed to twitch with irritation when he said this, "and I went along with the other men we had. We came across a big gate, which I couldn't open at first, but then a bunch of… really creepy _things _came out and started attacking us."

The screwdriver in Winry's hand was shaking, and she refused to look up. Neither was she working on the leg anymore; she seemed that caught up in the story.

Ed touched her shoulder to bring her out of her little trance. "Stop it; everyone was fine! You're overreacting."

"You guys underreact," she said under her breath, and took a deep breath to calm herself. "What were the things that attacked, exactly?"

"The best way to describe them is that they were dolls with souls attached to them, which made them move. And they were really grotesque to look at."

"Whose souls?" she asked.

He gave her a significant look but didn't answer her question. "Anyway, Scar figured out—and I don't know how he did it 'cause he couldn't properly explain himself—how to undo the alchemy that attached the souls to the dolls, so they became useless and stopped attacking us. So Scar took care of all the freaky doll things, and we went through the gate, where we found that annoying little girl, Mei, fighting Envy, who had managed to get a new body by attaching himself to one of the dolls, though I never figured out how he got out of the jar. I assume Mei let him out, she didn't seem amazingly bright—"

Winry connected a circuit that stung Ed painfully. "Be nice!"

"Ow! Yeesh, sorry!" he said, frowning down at her.

"You okay, brother?" asked Al.

"Yeah, I'm fine, as long as Winry doesn't connect weird wires like that again…" His left hand curled into a fist, instinct making him want to reach down and rub the spot that stung, regardless of futility. "Winry, if you're going to hurt me every five minutes, I won't tell you what happened," he threatened, mouth set stubbornly.

"In that case you can just limp around for the rest of your life," she countered.

"Hah. Even if you stop working, Granny Pinako will repair my automail, right?" He glanced over at her hopefully.

She was currently working on automail for a different customer. "Don't involve me in you kids' disputes," she said absently.

Winry laughed.


	10. End of their Story

**Ooh, this one is nice and long, too. I've noticed that lately the length of these installments is going up from an average of 300 when I first started posting, to an average of 350 now. (It doesn't matter. I'm likely the only person in the world who noticed.)**

**So, I have good news and bad news. The good news: I'm done with midterms! I have two days off from school while the teachers have workdays! **

**The bad news: My mom is saying she's going to force me to go to my dad's house. It's because my sweet 16 is February 11 and since the next dad-weekend is after that time, she's going to make me languish over at his house for the next two days. Ohhhhh, the agony! I haven't been to my dad's house in months. Since before Christmas. Actually, I can't be sure but I think before Thanksgiving as well. It's just that I have nothing in common with those people and every second I spend over there is a second I feel I've wasted--and no, I'm not goign to waste my two free days at the house of so many completely insufferable people! And of_ course_ my little brothers all WORSHIP our father and want to go there at every possible opportunity, which means I'm goign to be completely alone in my misery. **

**Anyway, getting to the point: My dad's family are the kind of people who believe half an hour of computer time a day is sufficient entertainment for a single 24-hour period, and any more than that you're automatically deemed a loser and a computer addict. (Read: they're a family of freaks over there.) That means that I'm not sure if I'll be able to publish Wednesday's chapter on time. I'll try, of course--I already have it written and uploaded onto here--but, if it's not there on the proper day, don't say I didn't warn you. **

**And, lastly, I don't own FMA, yadda yadda yadda. **

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"Oooooo…kay…" said Winry, excessively slowly. "You and Al are kind of losing me with all this alchemy stuff."

"Sorry," said Al.

"You did say you wanted the story," said Ed, who was now turning a slightly mashed-looking bullet over and over in his left hand. A few minutes before Winry had reached into his leg and pulled it out from where it had been jamming some components. His head still kind of throbbed where she'd hit him for it, too, but he knew for a fact that this bullet hadn't actually been shot at him; it'd merely ricocheted into his leg by accident. Lucky accident. At least she hadn't noticed the still-healing bite scar on his upper left arm which he'd received from those horrible creatures she'd tried to describe earlier.

"Yeah, I wanted to know what happened, and I guess I kinda get the basics, but all this talk about gates and 'rentanjutsu' is just beyond me." She was now reassembling Ed's leg after replacing a few scratched bearings and being satisfied that there were no more uninvited parts (like the bullet) in her machinery.

"Well, what do you want to know, exactly?"

"Um," she stalled. "Well… Okay, here's something I want to know: What happened to your father? Spare the complicated descriptions, this time."

"Actually we're not sure what happened," said Al, who had momentarily stopped eating at the mention of Hohenheim. "There was some kind of enormous tremor, then when the military arrived to investigate what they thought was an explosion, they found both Father and the doppelganger's bodies."

"Oh, that's horrible," said Winry with feeling.

"Yeah, right," Ed snorted. "I hated 'em both anyway." It looked like if he had two arms he would have crossed them.

"Brother is insensitive about Father's passing, of course," said Al across Ed's rude comment.

"But don't you know what happened to them, Al?" asked Winry, also ignoring Ed's rudeness.

"No. All I know is that there was a large earthquakelike tremor, and then they were both found dead. The really weird part is that there was no evidence of an explosion or anything. Nothing had so much as fallen off of a shelf. Weird, right?"

"Yeah…" said Winry slowly, and she fell into a thoughtful silence.


	11. Goals

**WOOHOOOO! It's snowing here in Maryland! SNOWING!! It hasn't snowed all winter here, and now all of a sudden we have a good inch already! Y'all don't know how happy I am--not only is it snowing, but today's a teacher workday! I get to spend all day with FF .net, my cat, anime episodes found on the Internet, and, most importantly, HOUSE, M.D, THE BEST SHOW IN EXISTENCE, COURTESY OF TiVo! **

**Sorry, I'm acting like an overexcited thirteen-year-old, aren't I? Well, to act more maturely, like a two-weeks-from-sixteen-year-old would act: Since it's snowing today, and since I weaseled out of getting booted to my dad's house, I'm celebrating by posting a chapter one day early. And, what's more, this means the scheduled chapter for tomorrow is now the superlong one, which I thought I was going to have to wait until Friday to post, and which I can now post on Wednesday. So, tomorrow, look forward to a nice and long chapter, like twice as long as the average: I think, without an AN (and without being proofread by me, so this ain't the final count) it's about 670 words. Sorry, but when you read it, you'll understand why it didnt make sense to chop it in half.**

**I don't own FMA, and _au revoir!_**

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"Well, regardless of what happened, what are you guys going to do with yourselves now? I mean, now that you've achieved your goals…your house is, well, you know. Are you going to remain a state alchemist, Edward?" Winry had finished with Ed's leg and was back at a worktable, working on plans for a replacement for Ed's arm.

Ed leaned back in his chair and watched his brother eat a third bowl of rice without any indication that he was getting tired of food or feeling sick from overeating. Ed was wearing pants again now that Winry was done with his leg. "I don't really know," he said honestly.

"Well, I think Brother should remain a state alchemist," said Al. "After all, even though I got my body back… Because Brother had to choose between himself and me, he didn't get his body back. I think Brother should remain a state alchemist, and we can go out together and keep searching for another way to get him his body back."

Suddenly Ed slapped his hand down on the table, hard. "We've been over this already, Al! I don't like it, messing with people's lives! Even if we manage to recreate what we did this time, in a way where we don't have to hurt anyone—it'll be dangerous, and I'm not going to let you get hurt—ever! So just drop it, okay?" Ed was so passionate in this speech that he found himself standing. Al and Winry were both staring in shock at him, and now Granny was poking her head in from the doorway of the other room. Not wanting to have all the eyes on him, Ed grabbed his red cloak and draped it over his shoulders, then stormed outside, into the yard, and disappeared down the road.

Al stood up, setting his bowl down, and leaned out the door to watch his brother walk away, then he looked back at Winry.

"Should I…?" she asked. "Or will you?"

"I'll go," said Al after a moment's thought, and got up, supporting himself on the table's edge. To his embarrassment, just before he got out the door, Pinako handed him a spare cane (of course a place that specialized in artificial limbs would have plenty of these sorts of things lying around). "Like an old man?" he said, looking at it dubiously.

"Like a weakened little boy who needs some help standing upright," she responded and firmly pressed the handle into his palm.

Al swallowed his pride and walked (more like hobbled) out the door and down the porch steps after his older brother, half-wishing he was a suit of armor again.


	12. Planning

**Haha, here's today's installment. Super long compared to the others, (as promised).The chapter after this one is a continuation of this conversation, then the one after that one is really cute in my opinion, and finally the pair of chapters after that one (that is to say, three and four chapters from now) are so beautiful in my head that I can't wait to type them. **

**Today is a snow day instead of a teacher workday. If it turns out that losing that workday makes Thursday a teacher workday, I will post another celebratory chapter on that day. So, see y'all Friday, or possibly tomorrow!**

**(I don't own FMA.) You know, if someone were to stumble upon this story now and read all 12 chapters straight through, I think they would get annoyed at reading this disclaimer every time. **

**Now, I'm off to continue bookmarking every onemanga .com chapter with Winry in it (she's my favorite character by far).**

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Ed hadn't gotten far. He was by the burnt and dead tree beside his house, the one that had once held a swing, and he was leaning against the trunk, facing away from the road, looking at the house's ruins. Al made sure his footsteps made noise as he approached, but Ed didn't turn.

"Brother?" Ed still didn't turn. He seemed to be staring at a fixed point among the ruins. "Brother, I'm sorry I made you mad."

"Winry had a point."

"Huh?"

"She asked us what we're going to do with ourselves now. She had a point."

"Oh, I see what you mean." _What happened to Brother's anger?_ Al wondered.

Ed absently reached over and pulled the cloak up further on his shoulder. Without an arm to hold it in place, it tended to slide down annoyingly. "I was thinking, it would be possible to clear this lot and build a new house here for us to live in."

"Uh—"

"We can't just live in Granny's house for the rest of our lives... Then again, I wouldn't feel right, destroying what's left of this place." Ed paused, closing his eyes, feeling the breeze and the calm and the silence. Finally he opened them and looked at Al. "Even though this lot is ours, I think if we want somewhere to live now we'll have to find somewhere else."

"That all makes sense, Brother, but where? And how come we can't just use this whole lot of land and find somewhere else to build?"

"That's an option. And that leads me to my next thought, which is, if we can get the materials to make a house, it shouldn't be too difficult to transmute one for ourselves." Al was nodding in agreement. "However, if it should turn out that that's not possible, I think it would be a good idea to go somewhere else. Central, maybe… If you really want me to, I'll remain a state alchemist… Then we'll have money, too. And finally… Well, actually, now that I think of it, the third option's kind of stupid. Forget that one." Strangely, he seemed unable to look his brother in the eye all of a sudden, and Al wondered what Ed was really thinking just then, but Ed recovered quickly and asked, "So what do you think? Which option of mine is best? If you have any other ideas of course I want to hear those, too."

Al considered. "Well, of course I think you should remain a state alchemist and we should continue searching for answers," he began. "It's possible that the Philosopher's Stone isn't the only method of helping you get your body back, or more specifically, helping us reach the Gates of Truth from which we need to pull your limbs. This," he nudged Ed's metal arm, "is not acceptable." Ed looked like he was going to say something, but Al held a bony-fingered hand up to stop him. "Wait, that's not all, let me finish. I think you're going to say something like, 'It's okay for me to not be exactly as I was, it's not as if I can't live a normal life that way, also I don't want anyone to get hurt...' Et cetera. If that's the case then although you know I disagree I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to. This brings me to the option of our creating a new house here for us to live in. That's a really good idea, and I'll help any way I can… even though I know I'm kind of…" He made a gesture indicating his blatant skinniness and frailty. "Well, you know. My point is, if you want to do that more than you want to go live in Central, then I'll support you." Al paused and looked down thoughtfully. "I do have one question, and I think the answer changes how I see this issue: What was the third option you were going to suggest?"


	13. Ed's Third Option

**Not much to say today, except that this is Thursday's celebratory chapter because I'm off of school. Woohoo! Now, I gotta go before my mom gets home and catches me on the computer still. **

**I don't own FMA! (Next chapter, just to mix it up, I'm gonna say, "I don't own Hagaren." ^^ )  


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Ed turned away from his brother and stared forward, past their house's ruins, past the hills and the sheep pens and other people's houses… He seemed to be looking past the sky itself. "I told you, it's stupid."

"I still want to know. Why won't you tell me?" Al pressed.

"Fine. It's not like I have any reason to lie to you. The third option was something that I've been thinking about for a long time, but I've never been able to sufficiently explain it to myself until recently."

Al was giving his brother a totally blank stare. "Huh?"

"Well… I think… I want to go to Rush Valley." Ed let this out on the exhale as if he was confessing some huge secret.

"What? Why? Last time we were there, weren't you practically molested by about eight zillion automail engineers who stripped you down to your shorts and mobbed you for a look at Winry's work?" At the sound of Winry's name Ed reacted slightly, which made it easy for Al to put two and two together. His subsequent "Ohhhh!" of understanding made Ed turn away to hide his warming cheeks.

"Told you it was stupid," he grunted.

"I don't think it's stupid at all, Brother," contradicted Al. "It's, at worst, amusing, but I'm not going to laugh at you. I think that's not such a bad idea. When Winry leaves Granny's again to go back to Rush Valley, we can tag along with her. We'll find our own place, and—ooh! I could get a job, my first job! And—"

"Hey, don't get so wound up," Ed interrupted as Al's speech sped up with his enthusiasm. "I thought I already dismissed this idea as stupid!"

"But that was before I realized what a good idea it was," said Al with a grin. "And I have a feeling it's the one you really want."

Ed snorted. "Don't read too much into it, little brother." He looked up and toward the Rockbells' house suddenly. "Do you smell…?"

"…Cinnamon, yes," Al agreed, and both of them started hurrying back, Ed at first going too quickly for his weak brother to keep up, but after a second he mentally smacked himself on the forehead and went back to support Al so they'd both get there sooner.


	14. Apple Pie

**Here's the scheduled chapter for Friday, January 30! I think practically all this week I've been posting chapters back-to-back, and so today marks a return to the normal every-other-day schedule. **

**I think the next two to three chapters are going to be long. Like, an entire Word page each. That's because the plans I had written out for the next two chapters didn't anticipate how long they would have to be to contain all the information I wanted. **

**I don't own Hagaren!

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Winry was sitting at the kitchen table holding a short paring knife and an apple which she was peeling. There were three piles in front of her: One was a pile of apple cores and peels, one was a pile of sliced, peeled, and cored apples, and another was a substantial pile of green-colored apples.

Pinako was on the opposite side of the table, her sleeves rolled up with an aluminum pie tin in front of her, and she was pressing dough into the bottom and sides of the tin with her thumbs, which shockingly had been scrubbed free of work grease, apparently for the special occasion of making pie.

Neither woman looked up when Ed and Al reentered, identical curious expressions on their faces. Al promptly went over to Winry's pile of peels and cores, and popped a piece of peel into his mouth which still had a substantial bit of apple stuck to it. The peel crunched under his teeth, and he had a thoughtful but happy expression on his face, as if he was carefully considering this piece of apple peel, and liked his conclusion.

Ed glanced blankly at the oven, which glowed orange through the glass, then back at Winry and Pinako. "Looks like you've already got a pie in the oven. What's the point of two?"

"We have a lot of apples," said Winry.

"With the way Al's eating he'll be able to suck down a whole pie all by himself," added Pinako.

"This way all our apples don't spoil," continued Winry.

"If you're going to complain about the pie then you don't have to eat any," said Pinako. Both women seemed to be on separate, but parallel, trains of thought.

"I'm not complaining," said Ed quickly.

"Isn't it just like a man to complain while the women in his life slave away over a hot stove?" Winry said, lifting her chin without taking her eyes off the apple in her hands.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, you're not _slaving away. _You're sitting at the comfortable table, paring apples, big deal. And anyway, didn't I just say, I'm not complaining?"

She laughed, Al crunched another peel, Pinako smoothed the dough at the bottom of the tin, and Ed sat down on the couch, pushing Den a little bit aside because the dog was being lazy, sprawled across most of the cushions.

Ed couldn't help but smile. He stared again at the faintly glowing oven. "How long before that pie is done?"


	15. What Ed Bought: 1 Begin Flashback

**As I said when I published Friday's chapter, it's comparatively long today, a little more than a page on Word, I think. I think this chapter and the next two after it are just unbearably adorable, hope you agree! ^^ See everyone on Tuesday! **

**REVIEW ME! **

**I don't own Hagane no Renkinjutsushi (I spelled that from memory ^^ For all you losers who don't know, that's "Fullmetal Alchemist" in Japanese.)**

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"Al, you remember that thing I bought in Central before we got on the train?" asked Ed suddenly.

"What thing was that again?" Al had stopped eating leftover apple bits, in favor of sitting back in his chair and playing with his hair, trying to teach himself how to braid it like his older brother.

"Um. Don't you remember? We were looking through the window of that store I noticed, and I asked you a question about it and of course you didn't know and you told me to just go inside and ask for myself… Don't you remember that?"

"Oh, THAT thing," said Al. "But… I don't remember you buying it. You just looked at it. You barely did that, even."

"No, actually, I did get it. That same day. While you were at the hotel, busy sucking up all the room service in sight, don't you remember me stepping out?"

"Oh, yeah…" said Al, understanding dawning on his face.

"What are you guys taking about?" asked Winry, frowning at the apple she was slicing. "It's annoying to have to listen to you guys talk about stuff when I have no idea what's going on."

"Get over it," Ed muttered, staring in a different direction.

Winry looked to her grandmother for backup, but Pinako shook her head. "I'm not annoyed by it. I just tune out the stuff that doesn't make sense, and then it doesn't bother me."

"Ugh, you're no help at all."

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**Three days earlier…**

_Edward paused by the window of a jewelry shop (the sparkly things had caught his eye) and looked at a necklace drenched in so many overlarge diamonds and sapphires that he couldn't believe it was able to support its own weight. He scoffed at the necklace. "Ridiculous. Who needs that many jewels, anyway?" He made to continue walking, but the noticed something that confused him. "Hey, Al. I wonder why there are engagement rings here," he pointed, "but then there's another set of them there. You'd think they'd be grouped together." _

"_I don't know," said Al. He was busy crunching on saltine crackers. "Why don't you just go inside and ask?" _

_Ed rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. We don't look like their average customer." As if to prove his point, a pair of girls perhaps five years older than himself walked by and stopped in front of the display, staring in at the shiny baubles. _

"_Come on. Let's go ask. I'm curious about it now." Al at least had the intuition to see that for whatever reason, his older brother wanted to go in, but that Ed didn't want to look unmanly by being the one to initiate it. _

"_Fine then," said Edward, and they both walked into the store together. _

_The woman at the counter was short, brunette, with wide eyes that looked wider because she wore large and highly magnifying glasses. "Hi, kids," she said with a smile befitting of a good shopkeeper. "Is there something I can help you with?" _

"_We don't want to buy anything," said Ed quickly. "We just had a question."_

_"Oh? What's that?" _

"_How come in the window there're two different sections for engagement rings? Isn't that kind of disorganized?" _

_The shopkeeper laughed. "You're the first person to go all the way inside just to ask me that!"_

_Ed crossed his arms, frowning. "Are you making fun of me?" _

_She sobered instantly. "Of course not! Tammy's Jewelry values all its customers' questions, comments, and concerns." There was an uncomfortable silence, but Al was unaffected. He was too busy eating crackers. "In response to your question, might I suggest you take a closer look at the rings?" _

"_Uh," said Ed, and he looked back at them. "I don't see anything special…" _

"_Oh!" said Al suddenly. "I see, Brother. Look, the rings in that section are smaller! And not all of them have diamonds." _

"_Huh? I guess you're right." Ed made to leave._

"_Wait," said the shopkeeper. "Wouldn't you like to know why that is?"_

"_No, not really," said Ed. _

"_I would!" Al cut across his brother quickly. "Tell me." _

"_Well, you see, the group of smaller ones aren't actually engagement rings. They're promise rings." _

_Ed paused, his hand on the door handle, and cocked his head like something in that sentence had caught his attention. "'Promise rings'? What's that mean?"_


	16. What Ed Bought: 2 End Flashback

**This chapter is partially a continuation of the flashback in Chapter 15. Originally this chapter and the one prior were written as a single section, but when I was done writing the scene, I became aware that it was way too large compared to all the ones previous. Therefore I decided to break it up like this. I know it's not the best way it could be done, but it's the way I did it so... it's irrelevant now. **

**Hey readers! Big news! I'm going to be 16 in 8 days! -does a little happy dance- Only the craptastic part is that I'm probably not going to get anything except ugly cards and $20 bills from people who either don't know what I want or just don't give a rat's ass. (Wahaha, I cussed! Don't like, stab me in the eye or anything, okay? This story is rated T, anyway, so it doesn't make a difference.) **

**I don't own FMA, Hiromu Arakawa does. And by the way, anybody who writes Fullmetal Alchemist as "Full Metal Alchemist" is stupid and should be promptly sacrificed to the heathen god of idiocy whereby the sacrifice will be turned into a Dalmatian and sent back to Earth in a litter of tiny idiotlings. (Odd. I just made up the word "idiotlings" yet Firefox does not underline it in red. A mystery!)**

**Review, review, review!**

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**Three days prior to Chapter 1…**

_Ed paused, his hand on the door handle, and cocked his head like something in the shopkeeper's sentence had caught his attention. "'Promise rings'? What's that mean?"_

"_A promise ring is kind of like an engagement ring because you give it to someone you want to marry, but giving someone a promise ring isn't exactly like giving someone an engagement ring because it's less absolute. We get a lot of the younger ones, like you boys, who want to get something like this for their girlfriends, but at the same time they don't want the pressure of an engagement." The shopkeeper unlocked the counter below her and reached in to pull out two display rings and held them out to Al, who was closer. See how the engagement ring is larger and it has a very simple style, the diamond is just in its setting atop the ring. Now, some engagement rings are more complicated than this, but the solitaire in this setting is the 'classic' style people often think of when they think of engagement rings." The shopkeeper put the engagement ring back under the counter and switched the promise ring to her right hand. "The promise ring, on the other hand, is smaller, and see how the way it's set is more artistic-looking? This one is pretty average for a promise ring, although promise rings vary greatly in appearance. This one is one of our big sellers because our customers like the way the diamond seems to be a part of the ring, as opposed to merely attached to the ring."_ **(AN: The second ring she describes will be in my profile. The first one is pretty generic. I didn't even bother looking up a picture for it. ^^')**

"_I see…" Alphonse walked forward and leaned in to look at them more closely. He swallowed the cracker he was chewing, then turned to Ed. "Hey, Brother, I think this is actually really nice. Why don't you come take a look?"_

_Ed was quiet for a moment, his hand still on the door handle. Al stared, absorbed in both his brother's reaction and the new cracker in his mouth. _

"_You thinking of someone?" asked the shopkeeper, who smelled a sale. _

_Ed was still silent, then he pushed open the door. "No… no one. C'mon, let's go, Al." _

_Alphonse rolled his eyes and passed the shopkeeper a look that said, "He's hopeless," before following his brother out the door. _

"Well, what about it, Brother?" asked Alphonse.

"I think… if it's all the same to you, I think we should go with my second option. However, I'm going to… Well, you can imagine what I will do with the thing I bought."

"Yeesh, what are you guys talking about!" Winry said impatiently, though she sounded more irritated than she actually was because she'd just accidentally sliced her finger with the paring knife. "Ow," she mumbled with her finger stuck in her mouth.

"What's the matter, Winry?" asked Pinako without looking up.

"Cut myself," she muttered, putting down the apple and knife. She stood and left the room, presumably to go get a bandage so she wouldn't bleed on the food. Ed stood up when she did and followed her out and into the bathroom, where he leaned in the doorway while she opened the medicine cabinet and searched around. "What do you need, Ed?" Winry asked when she noticed he'd followed her.

"You wanted to know what Al and I were talking about."

Winry nodded while she pulled down the roll of clean bandages and measured out how much she would need to wrap around her finger. "What _were_ you guys talking about?"


	17. A Promise Kept and a Promise Made

**This is by a wide margin my favorite chapter so far. I tried (and didn't quite succeed =p) to keep Ed and Winry as in character as possible. I knew that if they were out of character by too wide a margin, this chapter wouldn't be believable and, well, this is the result. Review and tell me how I did. I love reading what people have to say about my story! **

**The ring is, as of the time I'm posting this chapter, up on my profile. I forgot to do that when I posted the last chapter, but I swear I MEANT to! Anyway, it's there now, so yeah. I think it's really pretty without being overly flashy, and it's definitely the kind of thing I would want someone to give me, if I had a choice. Anyway, enough about that-- it's irrelevant!**

**There was a two-hour delay at my school Wednesday because of snow. I know normally I post a chapter to celebrate snow days, but yesterday it skipped my mind. Anyway, it's really better this way, that you guys get only the scheduled chapters, because I have to start getting ahead. For my sixteenth birthday next Wednesday, I'm going to post an inordinate amount of chapters, probably three, all of which are likely to be 600-700 words or something like it. Look forward to that! And in the meantime, enjoy this one. **

**I don't own FMA!

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"I had every intention of telling you, you know," Edward said. "You didn't have to get annoyed at us."

"Mm." Winry was looking down at the bandages pensively.

Ed took the roll of bandages from her gently and tore the fabric with his teeth. **(Note: If he'd had both of his arms at the time he would have used alchemy to separate a piece. Also, the bandages are not little adhesive Band-Aids, as you may have guessed. Recall that FMA is not set in modern times.)** "Lately I've been thinking about promises." He set the roll on the counter, took her hand in his, separated her cut index finger from the others, and looked down at her hand while he spoke. "I promised you'd cry tears of happiness. You promised you'd make me an apple pie." He was now carefully tying the bandage around her finger using only his left hand. Winry's right hand moved to help him, but he didn't need help tying. "We each kept those promises," Ed continued. "However, I also promised Al that we'd get our bodies back together." He looked down and to his right, at the empty space where his automail would normally be. "That one I haven't kept yet. I know it's something that Al really wants to see happen: Both of us, restored to exactly the way we were before." He looked back at their hands and didn't glance up at her, though Winry watched Ed carefully, not entirely sure where this was going. "We're going to go back to Central. I'm not going to quit being a state alchemist."

Winry looked up in alarm. "What? You're leaving so soon?"

"I have to keep my promise." Despite Winry's agitation Ed was calm and subdued. "I do want my body back. Al wants it too. We'll find a way that doesn't hurt anyone, I know it. But before we leave, I want to make one more promise. And I want you to make me one as well." He let go of her hand, reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring, and held it out to her. "Winry, I promise to come back—with my body restored. Will you promise to wait for me?"

For the first time Ed managed to look up at her face instead of staring down at their hands. Winry was crying again. Ed chuckled slightly and reached up with his left hand to wipe the tears away from her face. "You really overdo it with the tears of joy thing," he told her, smiling slightly.

"S-sorry," she mumbled, giving him a small smile as well.

Ed waited until she had control of her voice, then said, "So, what do you say?"

"Well, what do you think?" Winry was beaming. "Yes! Of course!" Ed wasn't sure how she did it, but she somehow managed to take the ring from his hands and slide it onto her ring finger, and simultaneously throw her arms around him.

"Uhh." Edward's face heated fiercely. At least he was able to recover the presence of mind to hug back. "Th-thanks."


	18. Two Weeks at Home

**Reviews/opinions on last chapter? I didn't get any and I REALLY wanna know what readers think. **

**Unfortunately, this chapter is boring filler. I've gotten way ahead on the chapters in preparation for Wednesday's upcoming post-a-thon, and believe me, it gets really fast-paced soon. You guys are going to be as impatient as I always am for the next installment. (I haven't been fussing about that as much recently, have I? Yeah. I really hate waiting when I know I have chapters ready to roll out.)**

**Next chapter on Monday! At the end of this one I'll include a preview, though that one's kind of filler-y too, but it's a little bit fluffier so that makes up for it in my book. Chapter 20 and onward are the pulse-pounding ones, and since there's going to be lots of chapters on Wednesday, you won't have to wait in agony (well, actually, you still will, since I won't be posting the resolution of all the action on that day. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait.)**

**I don't own FMA.  
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When Ed and Winry reentered the kitchen, Winry was holding her left hand in her pocket, trying not to draw attention to herself, and Edward was acting as if nothing had happened as he went back to the couch and sat down again. Al stared at his brother with an expression that said, "You'll explain the details to me later," and though Pinako didn't seem to react much to it she had a look in her eyes that gave the impression that Al had told her everything that he knew.

However, everything was surreally normal. No one said anything or called attention to the elephant in the room.

Pinako started paring apples to make Winry's work go faster, and together they sliced the whole pile of them and finished preparing the pie. By the time the second pie was done the first was ready to come out of the oven. Al burned his tongue on the first piece, which Winry barely had time to set on the table before Al was trying to cut a piece. ("Don't you ever get tired of food?" Ed asked.) Winry giggled when Al made a face at his tongue burning, and Pinako said, "Now, that's why you should always be patient and wait for your food to cool before you go crazy trying to suck down everything in sight."

Al didn't seem to mind much, after the initial burning, remarking, "That's the first time I've burned my tongue on food in nearly five years!" and grinning at everyone in turn (while blowing lightly on his slice, it might be added).

"So, Brother," said Al after a few minutes of everyone eating (or, in Den's case, watching the people eat with a pitiful, "Me too, please," expression). "You want to go back to Central instead of staying here, right? How long do you think it will be before we leave Resembool again?"

"Uh, only as long as it will take to get a replacement for my arm," he responded, and looked at Winry and Pinako questioningly.

"One or two weeks," said Winry.

"Unless you're going to ask us for a rush job again," Pinako added.

"Ugh," Winry groaned to herself. "I hate rush jobs. It means faster restoration of the ability to move for everyone else, but for me it means three or four sleepless nights."

Ed chuckled. "If it means the automail's half as expensive and Winry gets eight hours every night, I think I'll live with waiting an extra week or so. I'm no longer in a hurry… Before, Al and I were worried that his soul was rejecting the armor. As that's no longer an issue, and since my body is functional regardless of whether or not I have my true limbs… Well, that means we're no longer in a rush to get moving."

"Speak for yourself, Brother," said Al. "I think it's very important that you get your body back. You shouldn't give up just because I have mine! We should continue our research with as much gusto as before!"

Ed stared away, eyes unfocused. "Yeah," he said, and sighed.

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**Next chapter:**

_"This one is the wire we attach to all of the joints which sends a pain signal to the brain if the joints are strained past normal working capacity."_

_"Hey, I've had that happen to me a couple times..."_

_Winry's elbow came back and made contact with Ed's stomach. Unprepared for the blow, he stumbled backwards. "That's for reminding me how much strain you put on your automail," she informed him. "Now go away before I inflict something much more painful on you."_

_From the sidelines of Winry and Ed's bothering each other, Alphonse became certain that the arguing was only a pretense._


	19. Workshop

**Okay, so I've decided on the plan: Today, tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday, I will post two chapters a day. On Wednesday, my birthday, I will post _four_ chapters. How's that for a post-a-thon? Final Countdown; 2 days until my birthday! **

**Here's the first of today's two chapters. I think this one is cute, even if it _is_ only a filler. Ed's taking an interest in what Winry does!  
**

**I don't own FMA.**

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Winry sighed loudly and whirled around to glare at Ed. "Look, I really can't concentrate with you breathing down my neck like this, Edward."

"Sorry." He backed up five feet. "Better?"

Winry rolled her eyes and turned back to her work, assembling the internal structure of Ed's arm with a little more force than necessary. "No."

He stepped back again. "How far away do you want me to be?"

"Would you stop being clever, Ed? That's not what I mean and you know it. Isn't there anything you could be doing right now? Besides staring at me?"

"It's been four days already. I want to see how my automail's coming along."

"Poorly!" Winry frowned and knelt to pick up the allen key she'd just dropped. Her agitation made her careless. "Ed, you're distracting."

"Sorry." He said it like a question. "What do you want me to do about it? I've been here five minutes and already you're yelling at me. What did I even do to make you so annoyed?"

"Nothing!" she said. Too quickly. Ed walked forward and stood behind her, peering over her shoulder. Somehow, he had yet to realize he was now tall enough to be able to do this. Winry, on the other hand, had noticed. If it hadn't been the case she would never have told him yes.

"What's that part called?" He pointed.

"That's a rubber tube."

"Duh. I mean what does it do?"

"Once I've cut it down to the right size, it'll be a casing to contain the wires that will connect to the nerves in the finger and knuckle joints."

"Okay. What's that part, the one that bends like a capital letter L but has a sphere at the vertex?"

"That's a partially assembled thumb joint. Inside there's a very finely oiled bearing that is capable of mimicking the range of motion in the average human thumb. It goes a little farther than the average human, actually, to prevent it from breaking off if it's put under strain. There's a wire we attach to all of the joints which sends a pain signal to the brain if the joints are strained past normal working capacity."

"I never really noticed because it's so natural to feel pain when your body bends the wrong way, but now that I think about it I've had that happen to me a couple times."

"Right now I'm setting up those special nerves." Winry's elbow came back and made contact with Ed's stomach. Unprepared for the blow, he stumbled backwards. "That's for reminding me how much strain you put on your automail," she informed him. "Now go away before I inflict something much more painful on you."

That day and the next two days were like that. When Al wasn't eating or playing with Den in the front yard ("The exercise will be good for rebuilding your strength," Ed insisted) he sometimes hung around the workshop, but Ed and Winry always seemed to be in their own little world, never noticing others whenever they were together.

Al was certain that the arguing was only a pretense.


	20. What's Up With Central City?

**Annnnd here's the second chapter for today. Sadly, no fluff in this chapter (and oh, how I do love my EdxWin fluff!) However, this makes up for its lack of fluff in that this chapter actually introduces a recognizable PLOT (haha, I know, a plot shows up 20 chapters in, what's with that? I fail at life, I know).**

**And HEY! Mustang gets a cameo in this chapter! He shows up again 13 chapters later, (seriously, that's how far ahead of you guys I am at this point) and (*drumroll*) I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT I HAVE OFFICIALLY INCORPORATED SOME ROYAI INTO MY STORY! ^^ Not in this chapter, unfortunately. But I promise you, there will be some! **

**I don't own FMA, now, on with the chapter!**

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"Hey, shitty colonel. It's me."

"I'm not a colonel anymore. I'm a general. What do you want, Fullmetal?"

"You'll always be 'shitty colonel' to me, shitty colonel."

"Right back at you, Shortmetal."

Ed glared at the phone and considered hanging up, but decided it was better to just say what he had to say before Mustang drove him insane. "I'm coming back to Central in two days."

"Turning in your watch now that Al's no longer stuck in the suit?" Mustang guessed.

"Just the opposite. I'm going to remain a state alchemist. I just think it'd be a good idea if Al and I went to Central Library again. Now that Sheska's reproduced a good bit of the documents lost in the fire, and Al and I are no longer in a race against time to get our bodies back, and there's likely been more research turned in since we last visited there… With all that in consideration, Al and I both think it's a good idea to start from the beginning and explore all the options."

"Makes sense. But why are you calling me? I'm probably not going to see you if you're going to be in the library the whole time you're in Central. We're not friends, so there's no reason why you should be calling me about this."

"I need to know if it's safe."

"Safe to leave or to come?" Mustang pointed out. The answer was the same either way, so he didn't give Ed a chance to respond. "We're still getting all sorts of death threats from insurgents. Soldiers who didn't support the coup we staged, Bradley's hardcore supporters. Since there's no way to explain the situation with Bradley, we can't just release King Bradley's former status as a you-know-what to the public. All we can tell them is that Bradley and his son disappeared under unknown circumstances. People who don't believe us (and why should they? We're practically lying to them) are very vocal about their complaints. Three weeks ago Lt. Col. Richard Cline's house was burned down by the rebels. Just last week I got four death threats, and I also received a letter stating that Colonel Hawkeye had been kidnapped and would be shot if I didn't comply with their demands. Of course Hawkeye was in the room at the time and assured me that it was just a poorly planned ploy to get me to give the rebels information."

"Damn, is this supposed to make me feel _safer_ about going to Central?"

"Let me finish. Despite all this craziness, it's really not much danger. Most of those involved in the threats are amateurs who don't know what they're doing and don't have the follow-through. Yesterday I got a letter which said that I would be shot by a sniper at noon today. Since it's four o'clock and I'm not dead yet, I figure I'm either in the clear, or their hit man's stuck in traffic."

He chuckled, but Ed didn't think it was funny. "And what about Lt. Col. Cline, whose house was burned down?"

"Nobody was injured, and the firefighters put out the blaze before significant structural damage occurred. The first floor was mostly gutted, but the second and third floors were both almost completely untouched except for some smoke damage."

"Then the Lt. Col. was lucky."

"No, Fullmetal. The fire department is a block away from his house. The firefighters _walked_ there. The arsonist wasn't trying to hurt anyone; they were just trying to send a message. Why else would you burn down an empty house of a comparatively low-level officer who wasn't even significantly involved in the coup? Anyway, Fullmetal, you're certainly not on the insurgents' list. I doubt anybody even knows you were involved, save the people who are in on the classified data. You're safe."

"Fine, I believe you. In that case, I'll be in Central in two days and you'll know where to find me. See ya around, shitty colonel."

"Back at you, Shortmetal."

_Click._

* * *

**Next chapter...**

_"Ha, ha. These threatening letters are so weak. Look, Al, they cut out every individual letter from newspapers and such, then glued them onto the paper. Scary stuff, right?" Ed chuckled. He scanned the letter once.  
_

_Raised his eyebrows._

_Reread it._

_Reread it again._

_Paled._

_"Oh, shit."

* * *

_

**^^ That's all, folks!**


	21. Four Letters

**Last chapter's preview was kinda scary, eh? It gets better (or worse, depending on how you look at it. Me, I like the glass-half-full approach whenever possible). Here's the first of your two bonus chapters for today.**

**Don't have much to say, so, I don't own FMA, please review, and enjoy! Next chapter will be out in a few minutes.  
**

* * *

"Brother!" Alphonse walked through the aisles of the library, searching for his older brother. Finally, he located Edward, completely absorbed in a book about medical alchemy.

Ed glanced up briefly to check who it was calling him, then looked back at the book. "What's that in your hand...? Was there really that much mail for us already? We've only been here a week and a half. How many people d'you think even know we're here?"

"At least four," said Alphonse, "since that's how many letters we have. Did you find anything interesting while I was gone?"

"Here, trade." Ed picked up his research notes and handed them to Al, taking the mail as he did so.

"Hm," they both said in near unison. The first envelope in Ed's hand was handwritten and, naturally, had no return address. "'Fullmetal Alchemist, we know you are involved in the Fuhrer plot'… No, they don't. They write that to everyone, I'm pretty sure. 'You should beware of strangers if you know what's good for you.' Nothing new in this one." He tossed it aside and looked at the next one. "Hey Al, since when is Mei sending you letters?" Ed was tempted to open Al's mail but he resisted the temptation and set it aside.

"This doesn't look like anything new," said Alphonse, who was reading Ed's notes and only half listening to Ed's comments on the letters. "Although I think _this_ array," he held up the piece of paper he was looking at, "might be different from the ones we've seen before. But only slightly. Still, we should look into it."

"Yup." Ed was reading the third letter. "This one's garbage, too. They're tying to scare me by bragging about how much they know about us, but there's nothing written here they couldn't get from a public database." He snorted and tossed that one aside also, then ripped open the final letter. "Huh, this one looks different from the others. Looks like the author tried extra-hard on this one. They cut out every individual letter from newspapers and such, then glued them onto the paper." He scanned the letter once.

Raised his eyebrows.

Reread it.

Reread it again.

Paled.

"Alphonse."

Al looked up, concerned at the change in tone. "Brother."

"I think I'm gonna be sick. Or pass out. Or both." Ed certainly looked the part. He held the letter out to Al. "Read it."

"What's wrong?" Al took the letter from his brother.

Read it.

Frowned.

Reread it.

Made a little suffocated noise with the back of his throat.

"Ed, we gotta go home. Now."

"Y-yeah."

They shoved all their papers and books together hastily and practically ran out of Central Library, both panicking, hearts pumping fear through their bodies in perfect sync.

* * *

**Love that last line! I always feel proud of myself when I come up with a particularly good bit of imagery. And speaking of writing devices, how did y'all like the fragmented sentences on separate lines? It's a method that I haven't really tried out in anything serious (yes, I consider fanfiction serious). Through your reviews, please tell me how you feel about the fragments! I want to know if my readers can feel that tense atmosphere through the use of broken thoughts; at least, that's what I was going for, and that's how I felt writing it. Feedback, _pleeeeeeeeease!!

* * *

_**

**Next chapter: the contents of the letter!**


	22. WE ARE HAVEN

**You guys are lucky today is a bonus day, otherwise you'd've had to wait to read this letter! As it is, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to read what Ed and Al do about it, and once you read this you'll be DYING for the next chapter; I know if it was me I would be. (Thankfully I know where this is going so I'm not as concerned; but... uh... yeah, just gave away a big hint. Damn. ...I'll shut up now.) **

* * *

_FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST EDWARD ELRIC:_

_THIS LETTER IS FROM THE ANTI-COUP GROUP KNOWN TO THE MILITARY AS "HAVEN." _

_YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF US. _

_WE HAVE CERTAINLY HEARD OF YOU. _

_WE ARE AWARE THAT YOU HAVE RECEIVED THREATS FROM OTHER SECTS. WE ARE AWARE THAT YOU HAVE A TENDENCY TO WRITE THESE LETTERS OFF. _

_WE ARE DIFFERENT. _

_WE KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. EVERY SECOND. WE ARE WATCHING YOUR EVERY MOVE. WE KNOW YOU ARE SEARCHING FOR A WAY TO REPLACE YOUR LOST LIMBS, EDWARD ELRIC. WE KNOW HOW YOU LOST THEM, TOO. AND NOT THAT FAKE STORY ABOUT THE EASTERN REBELLION WHICH YOU TELL TO OUTSIDERS. _

_HOPEFULLY OUR DISCLOSURE TO YOU OF PERSONAL SECRETS HAS CONVINCED YOU THAT WE ARE NOT YOUR AVERAGE AMATEUR ANTI-COUP SECT. _

_WE KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A SOFT SPOT FOR A YOUNG WOMAN WHO RESIDES IN THE RURAL EASTERN TOWN OF RESEMBOOL. _

_PLEASE BE WARNED THAT AS OF YOUR RECEIVING OF THIS LETTER, WINRY ROCKBELL IS THE HOSTAGE OF "HAVEN." SHE IS IN GRAVE DANGER IF YOU DO NOT COOPERATE. _

_GO TO RESEMBOOL TOWN PROMPTLY. _

_IF YOU ARE NOT TIMELY, YOU WILL DISCOVER ALL THE INHABITANTS OF THE ROCKBELL HOME, DEAD._

_IF YOU ARE ON TIME, YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR NEXT SET OF INSTRUCTIONS._

_-HAVEN._

_

* * *

_**Next time_..._**

_"Since the ride's so long, Al and I plan to hop off the train at every stop and call here__—"_

_"What? What for?"_

_"Listen! I know it's going to get repetitive, but I need you to answer _every single time._ No matter how annoyed you get with us, understand! I need you to answer _every_ time! Do you understand me, Win? Every time!"_

_"Okay, every time, I got it, Ed! Geez! What's happening that's got you so panicked?"_

_"Just do it!" He paused. "Please."_


	23. If You Value My Sanity, Answer The Phone

**Leaving for school in five minutes, so I thought it might be nice to post a chapter right before I rush out, especially since it's this one. I don't own FMA.

* * *

**

"Please pick up, please pick up," Ed muttered urgently into the phone. Al was over at the ticket booth paying for the next train out of Central, and Ed was dying of anticipation waiting for Winry or Pinako to answer the phone.

"Rockbell Automail, Pinako Rockbell speaking, can I help you?"

"Grandma! You're okay!"

"Edward? Why are you call-...? It's only been a week, and you boys _never _call home. What's going on?"

"Grandma, is Winry okay? And Den?" He tacked on the latter as an afterthought.

"Of course, they're both just fine. What is this about, Edward?"

"Where are they? Please, go check right now!" He sounded like he was begging.

"How about I just let you talk to her?" A shuffling sound. Ed heard her call "Winry! Phone!" then, a small crashing noise like Winry had jerked in surprise and knocked something over, and Winry's (a bit late) response of "Coming!"

"Hello?"

"Winry," Ed sighed. "It's so good to hear your voice."

"Never heard you say that before. Are you sick or something?" She sounded somehow both suspicious and concerned.

"No, I'm fine. Listen, Al and I are coming home."

"So soon? That's great! But why?"

"Please! Listen carefully!"

"Oh-okay."

"Al and I are coming home," Ed repeated. "The train ride's not short, so it's going to take a few hours. I can't explain everything right now, but I swear I'll explain everything as soon as I'm there. Since the ride's so long, Al and I plan to hop off the train at every stop and call here."

"What? What for?"

"Listen! I know it's going to get repetitive, but I need you to answer _every single time._ No matter how annoyed you get at hearing my voice or answering the phone, understand! I need you to answer _every_ time!"

"Okay, every time, I got it!" she said defensively. "What's happening that's got you so panicked?"

"Just do it!" He paused. "Please."

Winry was thrown off by the sudden change in tone, and it was all she could do to give him her word. "I will."

_Click._

"Ed!" Ed turned at the sound of his name being shouted. Al waved him over. "Brother, I've got the tickets. The train after this one that's here at the station now, that's the one we're going to take."

"Good. Winry and Grandma are fine for now." He looked only slightly less agitated than before.

"Good."

Ed folded his arms over his chest and stared at the northbound train currently letting off passengers and steam. Both brothers were displaying signs of extreme stress: Al was fidgety; Ed was very, very still. Both of them had the same thought running through their heads: _How much time do we have left?

* * *

_

**Show of hands: Who's relieved that Winry and Pinako aren't already dead, after reading the letter from Haven? C'mon, review so I'll know how you guys feel! I got one review last time; that made me happy (thank you, reviewer, you know who you are!), but at the same time I'm a greedy (expletive deleted) and I want more, more, more! C'mon, people press that button! **

**And have fun waiting all day in suspense for the next three chapters! I know I will be in suspense waiting to post them!**

**Next chapter: Phone Tag!  
**


	24. Phone Tag

**Okay, this is the second chapter of four for today. I just found out this morning that Chapter 92 of FMA is available on onemanga, and I've been antsy to read it all day, so I'm just going to post this chapter real quick to tide y'all over, then I'll post the other two when I'm done reading (and obsessing) over it. See ya soon!**

**I don't own FMA. REVIEW!

* * *

**

_Rrring. _

_Rrring. _

"Rockbell Automail, Win—"

"Winry. It's me. Are you and Grandma still okay?"

"Yes, Ed. We're fine. Please, tell me—"

"Thanks."

_Click._

Winry stared at the phone in her hands, then she looked up and at her grandmother. "I'm a little scared, Grandma. What could make Ed and Al act this way?"

"I don't know, Winry. Just try to relax and have faith in God and those boys."

Winry bit her lip and nodded, then went back to the table and laid her head down on her folded arms. The stress of not knowing what was going on made her feel sick to her stomach.

* * *

_Rrring. _

_Rrring_.

"Rockbell Automail, Pinako Rockbell spea—"

"Grandma, it's me. Are you both—?"

"We're just fine, Edward."

"Thanks, Grandma. Bye, Grandma."

_Click._

_Winry has been asleep for about ten minutes_, Pinako thought. _Time to send her upstairs. She can't nap on the kitchen table all day. _

"Winry."

"Huh?!" She sat up straight and looked around in alarm. "Did he call again? Did he tell you anything?"

"No, no more information than the last three times. Winry, you fell asleep. If you want to take a nap you should go upstairs to your room. Do you feel okay?" In a maternal move as old as time, Pinako reached forward, put her hand on Winry's forehead underneath her bangs, and moved her hand upward, sweeping the hair away from her face as she checked for fever. "You're a little warm. Do you feel sick?"

"It's just a little stomachache, I'll get over it. What's more important is waiting for Ed and Al to get here so they can tell us what's happening."

"All right," Pinako ceded. "Try to stay awake, though, Winry."

"Yeah," she said through a yawn.

* * *

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring._

"Rockbell Automail, Pinako Rockbell speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hi, Grandma." It was Al this time. "Brother fell asleep on the train. With his stomach exposed, I might add. I didn't want to wake him, he's already so on edge as it is… So I decided to call instead. So, you guys are both all right?"

"Yes, Alphonse. Winry and I are very concerned about what's going on, can you tell me anything?"

"Sorry, Grandma. Brother wanted to wait to explain everything in person, and anyway I don't think I have time before the train takes off again."

"At least tell me where you are right now. How long before you guys get here?"

"Four more stops, I think. See you in an hour or so, Grandma."

"You too, Al."

_Click. _

"Al, right? Ed normally lets you say two words, then hangs up."

"Yes, it was Al. He says they should be here in about an hour. I think it'll be okay if you go upstairs and take a real nap now, Winry."

"No, no…" She bit back another yawn, shaking her head. "I wanna be awake when they get here."

Pinako put her hand to Winry's forehead again. "You're still hot."

"How can you tell? Your hands are hotter than my face."

"You're imagining it." But Pinako did feel a little strange, now that it was brought to her attention.

In the corner, Den gave a whining yawn. Was it coincidence that he felt poorly, too?

* * *

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrr—Click. _

Ed's senses were immediately on high alert. He turned around and looked at Al. "They didn't pick up. They didn't pick up!" He immediately dropped five more cenz into the pay phone and redialed.

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

_Rrrr—Click. _

"They're not answering." He hung up the receiver and stared at it for a minute with desperate eyes. "Damn it!" He hit the side of the booth with his right hand, denting it and causing a few people to stare at him with eyebrows raised.

"Come on, Brother, you're making a scene. Let's get back on the train before it leaves. Relax. They probably just forgot or something."

"Y…yeah." Ed shoved his hands in his pockets and followed Al back onto the train.

* * *

_Rrrr—Click. _

"No answer again. Shit."

"Half an hour. That's all it'll take for us to get home." Al squeezed Ed's shoulder briefly. "It's okay." Ed didn't respond.

Despite the reassurances, Ed and Al avoided each other's eyes, afraid of what they would find.

* * *

**Next time...**

Oh, God,_ Al thought._ All that worry for nothing. Winry's just asleep at the kitchen table.

_Al let out a shuddering breath, trying to slow his breathing, and walked around the table to wake her. Ed stared at Winry's sleeping form blankly for a second, then pulled out a chair and collapsed in it. "Huh. You know, the house smells kind of weird today, don't you think?"_

"_Yeah, a little, I guess. …Winry," Al said, shaking her shoulder a bit to rouse her. "Winry, wake up. You scared us to death, not answering the pho—oh, no."

* * *

_

**What's wrong with Al? You'll find out next chapter... or will you? =D **

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW or the reading-and-not-reviewing-monster will get you!**


	25. A Terrible Second Homecoming

**The very first chapter contains the disclaimer about spoilers. I tried to be stingy on the information about Chapter 92, but if anyone wants to get upset at me about it, so be it. My take on Chapter 92 of FMA is in the following paragraph. If you don't want to read it, don't.  
**

**Well, I'm all done reading 92, yeah, I know that was quick. Al was pretty clever! I half expected Pride to use his sneaky little tendrils and possess Al again, so it's good that we got to see some real action from Alphonse. I won't say too much about it for fear of spoiling it for someone, but I'm glad Olivia got reinforcements, and the person who showed up with Al at the end of the chapter surprised me! I'm upset that we didn't get to see what's going on with Mei vs. Envy, Father vs. Hohenheim, Ed, Scar, & Co. vs. Creepy Mindless Army, Mustang's coup d'etat, or Greed's disappearance, but of course it's impossible to keep up with every battle, every chapter, and I expect we'll see the continuation of at least two of the aforementioned fights next month. By the way, I think Ed, Scar, & Co. are pretty fucked if they don't get help soon. If I may speculate: We know that Greed went back to Central to confront Father. We also know that Ed, Scar, & Co. need help and are underneath Central right now, fighting. Well, wouldn't it be the darndest COINCIDENCE (wink wink) if Greed ran into Ed, Scar, & Co. while he was looking for Father? **

**Well, enough ranting about that; you guys are here for my fic, not my take on the current storyline! I'm sure you were all in suspense for the forty-odd minutes while I was reading and obsessing of Chapter 92 (why, of COURSE you were, WEREN'T YOU? *nudge nudge*) so, without further ado, here's the next installment of ENAT!**

* * *

"Come on, run!" Ed shouted behind him. Alphonse was still slow. Ed considered hanging back to help his brother. _Too slow!_ his mind screamed. _I _have _to know what's happened to Grandma and Winry! _Then reason caught up with him. Of course he wouldn't leave his little brother behind; that was ridiculous.

"Let's move it, Al." Ed ran back and seized his brother's arm to pull him along faster. "We gotta hurry."

Ed all but dragged his brother along the dirt road, while Al struggled to keep up, tripping over his own feet. He could feel Ed's heartbeat, racing, racing, and every time he closed his eyes he saw newsprint letters behind his eyelids, usually spelling the word, "HAVEN" and sometimes the phrase, "ALL THE INHABITANTS OF THE ROCKBELL HOME, DEAD."

_Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay,_ he chanted in his mind, mouthing the words as well. When he started actually saying it aloud, he realized that Ed had been muttering the same words over and over again the whole time. They were chanting in unison, an insistent and agonized prayer: "Please be okay. Please be okay. _Please be okay_."

It was too sunny. Why did the sky have to be so brilliantly blue when this was possibly the worst day of their lives? The Elric brothers had had bad days before. The day their mom died, it was cloudy. The day they tried to transmute her, it had been during a thunderstorm. Thank you, sun, for doing their emotions justice. However, today, the day when they were potentially going to lose the only family they had left besides each other… it was painfully sunny. Maybe the thank-you was too soon.

They got within sight of the house and Ed could wait no longer. If he'd been running before, now he sprinted. Adrenaline surged through Al's veins and there was suddenly no pain or difficulty walking, he just let go of his brother and shot off for the porch, and Ed, wasting no time, did the same. They burst through the door together, not even bothering to knock. It was weird that Den didn't bark, and when they saw him lying on the couch sleeping, it was obvious why he hadn't. But then, it wasn't like Den to nap during the day. That was more of a cat thing to do.

More important than Den sleeping was Winry, sitting at the table with her head tucked inside the crook of her arm, which was resting on the table. _Oh, God, _Al thought. _All that for nothing._ _She's just asleep._

Al let out a shuddering breath, trying to slow his breathing, and walked around the table to wake her. Ed stared blankly at her for a few seconds, then pulled out a chair and collapsed in it. "Huh. You know, the house smells kind of weird today, don't you think?"

"Yeah, a little, I guess. …Winry," Al said, shaking her shoulder a bit to rouse her. "Winry, wake up. You scared us to death, not answering the pho—oh, no." He let go of her shoulder and turned her head to touch her forehead, then he bent down, pulled her limp body up into a sitting position, and put his hands on either side of her face. "Winry! Oh my God."

* * *

**Next chapter...**

_"No!" Ed had never moved so quickly in his life, getting up (knocking his chair to the ground in his urgency) and pushing Al aside. Before she fell sideways due to her limpness, he caught her body and felt her face. _

_Cold. Too cold. _

_"Shit."_

_He pressed two fingers into her neck. Nothing. He pressed harder. "Please, please, Win, you can't be! No, no, no, no, no!" _

_He leaned close and turned his head to the side to try to hear her breathing."Oh, God."

* * *

_

**Oh, noes! What's happening? Is Winry...? Find out next chapter!**

**Oh, whoops, almost forgot: I don't own FMA! =D**

**Final bonus chapter for today is forthcoming! Oh, and: **

_**Happy birthday to meeeee!**_

_**Happy birthday to meeeee!**_

_**Happy birthday dear Taaaaaabbyyyyyy!**_

**_Haaaaappy birthday to meeeee! _**

**Yay, I'm sixteen now! *throws confetti*  
**


	26. Panic

**The AN was really long last chapter, so, without further ado, I don't own FMA, you bitches better review, and:  
**

* * *

"What?" asked Ed, his voice rising in pitch. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's—her skin is cold!" Al said urgently.

"No!" Ed had never moved so quickly in his life, getting up (knocking his chair to the ground in his urgency) and pushing Al aside. Before she fell sideways due to her limpness, he caught her body and felt her face.

Cold. Too cold.

"Shit."

He pressed two fingers into her neck. Nothing. He pressed harder. "Please, please, Win, you can't be! No, no, no, no, no!"

He leaned close and turned his head to the side to try to hear her breathing."Oh, God."

"Den." Al's voice was shaking. He tore his eyes away from Ed and went to the dog, pressing his shaking fingers to Den's chest. He didn't feel a heartbeat there either. "B-Brother! Den, too, I think. I have to find Grandma…" He stood up straight and looked around wildly, like he was so panicked he didn't know the layout of the house anymore. He forced himself to concentrate for a second, then remembered the way to the workshop and made a mad dash for it, thinking that that was the most likely place to find Pinako.

"Please, no, no, no," Ed was murmuring, pressing his fingers to every part of her body where he knew you could find a pulse: her wrists, the backs of her knees, her temple, and of course her chest. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing, although he swore he'd felt a mild thump once when he touched her temple, and that hope fed his desperation.

In the back of his head his mind was working, trying to understand what could have done this to her. He looked her body up and down, but she appeared uninjured… at least, there was no blood. And the _room_ held no signs of a struggle. _Wait!_ he thought suddenly, and two things he never would have connected in normal conditions jammed themselves together when he thought the word _room. _

The room smelled weird!

_An airborne agent?_ asked his scientific side hopefully. _Only one way to be sure! _He heaved Winry's body over his shoulder in a fireman's lift (years of fighting with people twice his age and size had made his body strong so that it was no challenge to hold her) and carried her outside to the fresh air. He set her body oh-so-gently on the grass and watched her for a couple seconds, half expecting to see an immediate improvement in her condition, but as he stared down at her closed eyes with his fingers pressed hard into the side of her neck, he felt like a vindictive angel had bottled his hopes in glass, then smashed the bottle against a very sharp rock.

"Win…ry…" Tearless sobs, now. "You promised to wait for me."

* * *

**Next chapter...**

_At that moment when he'd laid bleeding on the cold concrete with a huge metal rod through his gut, there had been a sudden moment of clarity, when he'd known he wasn't alone. But now..._

_Now was he?_

_The sound of the word echoed in his head and reverberated, screaming reminders of itself and all its synonyms, as if to make sure Ed got the point._

_Alone._

_Solitary._

_Isolated._

_Orphaned._

_How could they be gone...?

* * *

_

**All right, is everyone sufficiently panicked now? Good! It gets worse! See you tomorrow, everyone! (*grins sadistically*)**


	27. Alone

**Thank you to **AirDragon717 **and **Harryswoman, **who both wished me a happy birthday yesterday in their reviews. Today is February 12, Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln's birthday! Hooray for useless trivia from my AP Euro teacher. **

**I hope my readers spent tonight in anxious suspense as a result of the four chapters uploaded yesterday! Luckily for you (and for the Rockbells), I'm not the kind of jerk who likes to keep their readers in suspense for very long! On Monday, I said that there would be double chapters today and tomorrow as well, and I'm going to keep that promise, so I guess the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter doesn't mean much. **

**Y'know, I think I'm getting to like posting daily. It's kinda fun to come home every day after school, post a chapter, then write a few more right before my mom gets home and brings all my responsibilities with her. I'm considering starting to post every day instead of every other day. Then, bonus days, instead of having one chapter, can have two, like the bonus days all this week. Hey, readers, if you think I should start posting chapters daily, tell me in a review!**

**I don't own FMA!

* * *

**

_No use. She's gone now,_ he told himself. _Ed, man up. You've lost people before. Run inside and get the dog's body, then find Grandma and your brother before you lose them, too. _

Alphonse! That was his only reason for going back inside now. Grandma had probably already suffered the same fate. He had to get Al out of the house before he lost his only brother.

"Al!" Ed shouted, turning away from Winry's body and running back up the porch steps and inside.

Al had just ran downstairs and the two boys met in the kitchen. "Grandma's upstairs, too. She's… uh, also collapsed. In her bedroom."

More pain. Ed nodded at his brother. "Okay. I took Winry outside. Get Den, if you can carry him, and take him out as well. I'll explain why in a minute. I'll go upstairs and get Granny."

Al nodded and they both went separate directions.

Just as Alphonse had said, Granny Pinako was lying on the floor in her bedroom. Why was she up here? Granny never slept during the day. It was very out of character for her to be here. Ed hoisted the old woman up and carried her down the stairs and outside again. Al had already brought Den out and was standing in the yard, staring anxiously at the house. He didn't seem to have noticed the tears running down his face.

Ed laid Pinako's body a few feet from Winry's, then let his legs buckle and fell to the grass. He had broken into a sweat but he felt cold all over.

"What do we do now, Brother?"

"I… I don't know." His voice jumped up and down octaves, trying its very hardest to crack.

He stared up at the bright blue sky. Why did the sun continue to blithely shine when the world had ended?

The road was empty. Thanks to the fact that this town was so sleepy, they could sit there for hours and no one would notice.

There was nothing to do now. No family to come home to. Only Al to sit and suffer by his side. Wasn't that they way it had always been? That's what it had felt like... almost. But at the moment when he had laid bleeding on the cold concrete with a huge metal rod through his gut (Ed's hand traveled to his abdomen. Under his shirt was the scar that he hadn't told anyone else about, not even Al. His family would be distressed if they'd known. Though he guessed that didn't matter anymore, considering...) Yes, there had been a sudden moment of clarity when he'd known he wasn't alone. But now...

Now wasn't he?

Alone: The sound of the word echoed in his head and reverberated, screaming reminders of itself and all its synonyms, as if to make sure Ed got the point.

Alone.

Solitary.

Solo.

Secluded.

Abandoned.

Lost.

Isolated.

Stranded.

Orphaned.

Desolate.

Ed had never felt so alone in his life.

No, that wasn't right.

He had. Just once. On the day he'd transmuted his mother... and realized that Al had been taken...

Yes, there was that.

Al sat next to Den's corpse and stroked the dog's fur slowly, rhythmically, letting tears fall onto the dark hairs.

Ed was desperate now. He thought of that one beat he thought he'd felt in Winry's temple. Was that one (imagined?) bump enough to save her life? Hell if Edward wasn't going to try. He moved slowly over to her, feeling as heavy as if someone had filled him with lead. He sat on his knees on her right side and pushed the fingers of his flesh hand into her neck again, expecting nothing, and receiving the same. But maybe… Maybe he _did_ have one last desperate chance... well, it was stupid, but he could never have forgiven himself if he didn't try.

* * *

**Next chapter, "CPR"...**

_"Brother!"_

_"What?"_

_"I felt something."_

_"Move!" Pressing his fingers into her neck, Ed felt nothing for a few seconds, but he persisted, counting the seconds: "One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thou-ah! There, I felt it too." He waited again, counting silently in his head, and at the same interval, her heartbeat thumped again. "It's slow, but I feel it. Al, quick, go check Grandma!"

* * *

_

**Have you ever had something so traumatic happen to you that your mind doesn't seem to work right? You can only think of unrelated things, or things that don't matter, and your head just gets stuck, or goes in circles, and everything seems to be falling apart and it's all your fault and there's just no way to explain it except the worst, most horrible thing you've ever felt in your life? (Run-on sentence, much?) That was kind of what happened to Ed mid-chapter. (Although I guess you kinda figured as much.)**

**As I said in the beginning AN, this ending cliffhanger doesn't mean much considering the next chapter is immediately forthcoming. Especially considering the chapter preview. **

**You readers should like, stop for a few minutes and pretend like I'm one of those losers who won't post another chapter for a whole month. That way you can get the full impact of this cliffie. ^^**


	28. CPR

**Not much to say for this AN, seeing as it's the second one for today and the first AN told pretty much all I needed to say. I don't own FMA, you better review or I'll smash your face in until it falls out of your feet, and all that jazz. **

* * *

She was laying on her back, so Ed turned her over and frowned, trying to remember how to do it correctly. He turned her head to the side, then started repeatedly pressing on her back… He was sure he was doing it wrong, but this was all he knew of artificial resuscitation. **(Note: Modern CPR was invented in the 1950's. The method Ed's using is the one used in the time Ed lived. Obviously he doesn't live on Earth so for all we know he might have used the method of CPR we're used to, but I'm just going to assume that if Ed's world doesn't have modern cars, it doesn't have modern medicine, and that's that. So don't think I'm making a mistake by having Ed do CPR wrong!)**

Al quickly realized what Ed was trying to do and moved to sit in front of Winry's head. He pressed two fingers of his one hand into her neck and held the other hand an inch in front of her mouth and nose to feel for her breath. After a few long and silent seconds, Al said, "Brother!"

"What?"

"I felt something."

"Move!" Ed's left hand immediately pushed Al's away, while his tireless right hand continued doing compressions. Pressing his fingers into her neck, Ed felt nothing for what felt like forever, but he persisted, counting the seconds:"One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thou-ah! There, I felt it too."He waited again, counting silently in his head, and at the same interval, her heartbeat thudded again. "It's slow, but I feel it. Al, quick, go check Grandma!"

Al hurried over to Pinako and put his fingers to her neck, counting aloud. "One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand, four, one—Brother!" He turned to Ed. "She's got a pulse, too!"

Ed was so relieved that he laughed. "Then we weren't too late!"

"We weren't too late," Al agreed, and then stared back down at Pinako. Ed looked down at Winry and continued counting. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the interval between her heartbeats was getting shorter.

"I'll go inside and get some blankets. Their bodies are still too cold," said Al.

"No!" Ed said quickly. "Don't go inside. I think I figured out what happened, and I need you to stay out of that house at all costs, okay?"

"Huh? What do you think happened? Why can't I go in?"

"I think there's some kind of poison gas inside the house. A nerve agent that made Winry and Grandma and Den's bodies slow down."

Al gasped. "Ed, the last time I spoke to Grandma, she said Winry had fallen asleep. Do you think that had something to do with it?"

Ed nodded excitedly. "I bet it did! I bet the gas was making her tired! And I bet since Grandma's older, she has a higher tolerance for tiredness, so she didn't fall asleep right away. _And,"_ he spoke quicker the more his conjectures started to come together. "I bet that's why Granny collapsed in her bedroom! I bet she was really tired and didn't realize that she was sick!"

"And then she collapsed before she got into bed! And you know what else, Brother? Haven knew we were in Central—!"

"They mush have calculated how long it would take us to get the letter and take a train to Resembool—!" They were speaking quickly, thinking on the same wavelength.

"So they purposely chose something slow-acting—"

"In that case, Brother, I'll be okay if I go inside and grab some blankets—"

"But what about the instructions they were going to give us?"

Al was stumped by this one, and the brainstorming stopped in its tracks. "Hmm. That's a good point, Ed. We'll have to figure out where our next instructions are, and quick, in case we end up in another race against time." Al stood up. "I'm going to go inside and get some blankets real quick. If I see anything that looks like the instructions I'll stop and get them, but I'll try to stay inside for as short a time as possible."

"Okay." Ed was reasonably sure now that the poison would not harm him if he weren't inside for very long, so he agreed without much anxiety.

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**Next chapter, "Side Effects"...**

_"Winry, you're awake!" Because she was struggling to do so, Ed helped her sit up.  
_

_Winry clapped her hand to her forehead and said, "Ah. Dizzy. Sunny. My head. Ow."_

_"Sorry," Ed said, sounding as dazed as she. __They're not dead...?  
_

_"Why're we outsi—oh!" She stopped midsentence and started struggling against Ed's arms. "Oh God, let go of me. I'm gonna be sick!"_

_"Oh, shit. Seriously?"

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_

**I almost had them say "One, Mississippi," when they were counting the seconds, which is what I always say, but then I remembered they live in Amestris, which doesn't have a Mississippi! ^^ So it became "One, one thousand." That's a little fun fact for y'all. And hey, who's happy I didn't kill off Winry and Pinako? I reckon I scared a lot of you out of your skins there for a while. Uh, maybe not a whole. But maybe, like, a day? Less? **

**_REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_  
**


	29. Side Effects

**Y'know what's weird? Okay, so, except for the first one and the latest five or so chapters, all of the chapters for this story have about 30 hits, give or take a few. The latest five are newer so they're only in their teens, and the first chapter is the first chapter so it has like 110 hits this month. However, there is one chapter that does not follow the rules, and that is "What Ed Bought 2: End Flashback." That one, though it is not the first chapter nor in the latest five, has an abnormal amount of hits: 50. It's strange. What's so special about that particular one? Was it especially loved by y'all? Readers, if you do review, would you satisfy my curiosity and tell me what your favorite chapter so far is? I simply MUST get to the bottom of this oddity!**

**To Harryswoman, Fall of the House of Elric, and S J Smith, my three repeat reviewers: I would like to publicly announce that I love you guys eight thousand times more than all of my nonreviewing readers and three thousand times more than my review hit-and-run-ers. At some point I should get around to dedicating a chapter to you three. Well, I guess mentioning you guys is almost like dedicating a chapter to you, anyway. BUUUTTTT regardless, I'm going to specially dedicate a chapter to each of you individually. Yay!**

**Even without this increasingly long author's note, the following chapter is pretty freaking huge. It's another one of those I-couldn't-figure out-where-to-break-it-off situations. Plus, the final sentence of this chapter is, in my opinion, a really excellent stopping point, especially since the chapter after this one is another letter from Haven, and today is the final day of Double Daily Chapter Week. It just worked out better as a long one. (And I mean long. It's like 1400 words, not counting this AN.)**

**Okay, without further ado, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, I don't own FMA, and REVIEW!!!

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**

As soon as Al was inside the house Ed turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. Her heartbeat had sped to about once a second. Still way too slow, but vastly improved in such a short time. He bent low over her and put his ear by her mouth to listen to her breathing and relish the sound and the tickle of air on his ear. Alive. Safe. In Haven's words, "timely."

Without warning, Winry stirred. She was still lying on her back, and her elbows bent and moved so that she lifted herself and leaned on her forearms while turning her head to look in bewilderment at the ground. "Get off me. Ed. Can't move." Her voice was slurred and very soft, but that was what it sounded like she said.

"Winry, you're awake!" Ed said in surprise and sat up straight. Winry appeared to be struggling to sit up, so he reached around her waist and pulled her into a sitting position.

She clapped her hand to her forehead and said, "Ah. Dizzy. Sunny. My head. Ow."

"Sorry," Ed said, sounding as dazed as she.

"Why're we outsi—oh!" She stopped midsentence and started struggling against Ed's arms. "Oh God, let go of me. I'm gonna be sick!"

"Oh, shit. Seriously?" He released her immediately and she fell forward without support, groaning.

"Yeah, seriously." She groaned again. "Ahh, I don't want to be sick on the lawn…"

There was a split second where Ed thought about doing the romantic thing that guys were supposed to do in stories and books, that is, holding her hair back for her and the whole nine yards, but he squashed that notion quick. Nobody wants to watch somebody else chuck their guts, regardless of how much they love each other.

"Uh, uh…" Ed stuttered, looking around wildly as if a convenient bucket or large hole would magically appear. Oh, wait. _'Magic.'_ Duh. He scrambled around her so he was a few feet ahead of her, clapped his hands, and with a flash of light the dirt moved so there was now a largish hole in front of her. "Uh, there you go, Win."

"Th-thanks," she managed to say, and then without preamble she bent her head over the hole , wrapped one arm around her abdomen, put the other hand up to her forehead to hold her bangs back from her face, and heaved.

Ed had been prepared to avert his eyes and pretend not to notice anything, but he quickly realized he couldn't sit back and watch her suffer alone. He knelt by her side, pulled her hair back with ore precision than she had been able, and rubbed her shoulder until it was over. When she was done, Ed released her and clapped his hands, and with another flash of light all the dirt was back in the hole so it was impossible to tell it had ever been dug up.

Winry was apologizing over and over again. "…don't know what's wrong with me today, I'm so sorry, I fell asleep and I meant to be awake when you guys got here so you could explain it to me in person, and Grandma said—"

"No, Win, it's not your fault!" Ed cut across her. "Al and I have worked out that it was probably terrorists of some sort—"

"Terrorists?" she repeated in alarm.

"It's complicated. I'll explain later, I promise."

"Uhh, okay, I'll hold you to it, then. Where's Alphonse?" she asked, suddenly remembering him.

"Right here," said Al, kneeling beside Pinako, who had also woken up and was refusing to be treated like a sick person. "I ran inside to get some blankets. Here, Brother."

Ed caught the wool blanket that was thrown in his direction and unfolded it, then flung it over Winry's shoulders. She shivered a little, as if she hadn't realized how cold she felt until she'd received the blanket. Ed got up, walked to the place where he'd dropped the stuff he'd brought with him while he and Al had been running for the house, grabbed his red cloak, and walked back, then wrapped the cloak around her as well.

Ed looked at Al, who had given up on stubborn Pinako and was now sitting next to Den, petting the bewildered dog. "Did you find anything?"

Al knew what he was talking about. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. I didn't even find anything that could tell us how the gas got inside the house in the first place."

"Huh." Ed frowned and looked down at the ground, trying to think of places where they could look for the next set of instructions. He was interrupted from his thoughts when Winry made a confused noise and pulled the blankets off of herself.

"Something wrong?" asked Pinako.

"There's something… inside my shirt," she said, sounding perplexed.

"Inside your shirt?" Al repeated. "What is it?"

"Feels like a piece of paper." She let the blanket and Ed's cloak fall off of her shoulders, then lifted the hem of her shirt, exposing her stomach, and a piece of paper folded in half and sewn with large haphazard stitches to the underside of the garment. "It is a piece of paper. How'd it get there?" She pulled it away from her shirt (the weak stitches gave easily; it was so poorly done it could have been sewn by a left-handed five-year-old) and turned the paper over in her hands several times.

When he saw the cut-out newsprint words one side, Ed was both relieved and horrified at the same time. Relieved that the instructions had been found. Horrified that they'd gotten that close to Winry. Relieved that they'd gotten that close and not harmed her—it surely would have been easy if they'd wanted to, given that Winry must have been passed out at the time. Horrified that there were, in fact, more instructions. Relieved to know that someone from Haven had been here less than an hour ago; it meant they couldn't be far away now.

"It says 'Haven,'" Winry said. "Wonder what's inside."

Ed snatched it out of her hands before she could open it, then unfolded the paper and scanned it himself. Al walked over and read over Ed's shoulder.

"All right," said Ed when he was done reading. He was trying very hard to control his voice so Winry and Pinako wouldn't get too suspicious. "Winry, Grandma. Run inside and pack a bag. Wait. Actually, don't. You've probably still got a lot of the nerve agent in your system, and if you go in there you'll probably pass out again. Al and I will get some stuff for you. It's about 2:45 right now, right, Al?"

"Sounds right."

"Why are you packing bags for us?" asked Winry.

"We're leaving Resembool."

"But why? Did those terrorist people say you had to take us with you?"

Ed folded the note and put it in his pocket, then turned without responding and headed inside. Al gave Winry her answer: "No, they didn't demand anything like that. Actually, they specifically told us they didn't care either way."

"Then _why_...?" she asked, becoming frustrated with the lack of explanatory answers.

"It's just that you're involved now. We can't leave you alone. We can't let this happen again."

"If the terrorists didn't threaten us, then they must have something else planned. Grandma and I should be fine, right? _Right?"_

"We can't be sure about anything yet." Al turned away and headed for the house after Ed had already gone inside. Over his shoulder he said, "You don't know what it was like when you were dead."

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**Yay! They're not dead! And as I mentioned in the opening AN (aka that long one at the top of this page which you barely scanned before rushing ahead to the chapter) the last line of this chapter was a really good stopping point for me; I felt that it gave this chapter a sense of closure, which is good since the next chapter is another letter from Haven (That is also why there will be no chapter preview for it, by the way.) **

**Remember, today is the last of the double-chapter days! If you want me to start posting daily, leave a review and tell me so; if not, the next chapter posted will be on Sunday. (There will also be one on Monday to celebrate, what is it, President's Day, that we have off from school for? I don't even know, all I know is that there's no school, and that's reason enough for me to post a bonus chapter.) **

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! (Oh, God, I've become a review troll. What can I say? I like reviews. They make me happy. Every time I come home and there's a review alert in my inbox, I get a little giddy. So leave me some! Plus, reviews make me write more! If it ever so happens that I get more chapters in queue in my Document Manager than will fit, I will promptly post one of them to make room. Which means, if your reviews can give me incentive to write enough, you might get a few random bonus chapters sometime!)  
**


	30. WE ARE HAVEN II

**Last chapter's AN was like 500 words altogether, yet even with all that talking, I still forgot to mention that when I posted Chapter 28 yesterday, I realized that it had pushed my word count over 20k. Yay! If this chapter wasn't already a bonus chapter, I'd post a bonus chapter to celebrate. But since it IS a bonus chapter, I'll just say, Yay, here's a bonus chapter!**

**I don't own FMA, review, and without further ado here's the next chapter of ENAT!

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**

_FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST EDWARD ELRIC AND ALPHONSE ELRIC:_

_GOOD JOB. WE ASSUME THE ROCKBELLS HAVE SURVIVED OR ELSE MISS WINRY WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO POINT OUT THE MESSAGE SEWN INTO HER CLOTHES. ELRICS, WE HAVE NOW PROVEN THAT HAVEN IS SERIOUS AND CAPABLE OF WHATEVER ACTS ARE NECESSARY TO SECURE HAVEN'S DESIRED END. _

_NOW THAT YOU HAVE GOTTEN THIS FAR, HAVEN ANTICIPATES THAT THE ELRICS WILL TAKE THE ROCKBELLS WITH THEM TO COMPLETE THEIR NEXT MISSION. WE WOULD LIKE TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT HAVEN NEITHER ENCOURAGES OR FORBIDS THIS ACT, AND THAT HAVEN HAS NO HOSTILITY TOWARDS THE ROCKBELL MECHANICS. OUR HOSTILITY IS DIRECTED SOLELY AT THE ELRICS. HOWEVER, KEEPING THIS IN MIND, ONLY THE ELRICS WILL BE PERMITTED TO CARRY OUT THE FOLLOWING INSTRUCTIONS. IF EITHER PINAKO ROCKBELL OR WINRY ROCKBELL CARRIES OUT ANY OF THE FOLLOWING TASKS, THERE WILL BE REPERCUSSIONS. _

_THE INSTRUCTIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS: _

_AFTER SAVING WINRY AND PINAKO ROCKBELL FROM THEIR DEATHS, EDWARD ELRIC AND ALPHONSE ELRIC WILL PROMPTLY GET ON THE 3:15 TRAIN FROM RESEMBOOL STATION TO CENTRAL STATION. AT 4:50 WHEN THE ELRICS ARRIVE AT THE STATION, THEY WILL HAIL A CAB TO THE HAMICK HOTEL ON FREEDOM AVENUE AND PRESENT THEIR NAMES TO THE CLERK, WHO WILL GIVE THEM THE KEY TO THEIR ROOMS. TWO ADJOINING ROOMS, BOTH WITH DOUBLE BEDS, HAVE BEEN RESERVED IN EDWARD ELRIC'S NAME, BECAUSE OF HAVEN'S ASSUMPTION THAT EDWARD ELRIC AND ALPHONSE ELRIC WILL INSIST THAT THE ROCKBELL MECHANICS ACCOMPANY THEM. _

_THE SAFES IN BOTH ROOMS CONTAINS YOUR NEXT INSTRUCTIONS, HOWEVER THEY ALSO EACH CONTAIN A BOMB THAT WILL ACTIVATE IF THE SAFE IS OPENED, AND WHICH WILL GO OFF WITHIN MINUTES OF THE SAFE BEING OPENED. IN ORDER TO DEACTIVATE THE BOMBS YOU MUST HAVE THE CORRECT DEACTIVATION CODE AND KEY. _

_AT 6:00 PM, AFTER CHECKING INTO THE HAMICK HOTEL AND VERIFYING THAT THE SAFES ARE INDEED LOCKED, YOU WILL __WALK __TO THE ABANDONED "FERRUS & SONS IRON" WAREHOUSE ON 4__TH__ STREET IN THE NORTHEASTERN WAREHOUSE DISTRICT OF CENTRAL CITY. FACTORING IN DISTANCE AND ASSUMING THAT YOU CAN MAINTAIN AN AVERAGE PACE OF 4MPH, YOU WILL ARRIVE THERE AT MORE OR LESS 7:00. _

_FERRUS & SONS IRON HAS BEEN OUT OF BUSINESS FOR 27 YEARS AND ITS WAREHOUSE HAS BEEN RECENTLY CONDEMNED BY THE STATE BECAUSE THE WAREHOUSE HAS FALLEN INTO EXTREME DISREPAIR. THE STREETSIDE DOOR OF THE WAREHOUSE IS KEPT LOCKED TO PREVENT CIVILIANS FROM WALKING IN, BUT THERE IS ANOTHER ENTRANCE IN THE ALLEY ON THE LEFT. THAT IS WHERE YOU WILL ENTER. ONCE YOU ARE THERE, YOU WILL ENCOUNTER SOMEONE YOU RECOGNIZE. INTRODUCE YOURSELF AS THE "PAGE" AND THEY WILL INTRODUCE THEMSELF AS THE "KEY-BEARER." THEY WILL THEN PRESENT YOU WITH THE DEACTIVATION KEY AND THE CODE TO UNLOCK THE SAFE IN YOUR ROOM. IN RETURN YOU WILL TELL THEM THAT THE PRIZE THEY SEEK IS HIDDEN IN THE SMOKY ROOM AND HAS ALREADY LOST ANIMATION, AND THE NEXT CLUE CAN BE FOUND AT THE DESK OF THE ONE WHO KEEPS NOTES. THE NOTE WILL BE WRITTEN AT THE BEGINNING, AS THE NOTE-KEEPER CLOCKS IN._

_RETURN TO YOUR HOTEL ROOMS BY 8:30. ALPHONSE IS TO OPEN THE SAFE IN ROOM 1572, AND EDWARD IS TO OPEN THE SAFE IN ROOM 1574. IF ALPHONSE AND EDWARD EXCHANGE NOTES OR SHARE INFORMATION, BE AWARE THAT THE AFOREMENTIONED "PRIZE" SOUGHT BY THE KEY-BEARER YOU MET IN THE WAREHOUSE WILL BE DESTROYED. _

_HAVEN WILL KNOW IF YOU HAVE NOT FOLLOWED DIRECTIONS TO THE LETTER.

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_

**Next chapter...**

_"Calm down, Brother, Winry. You're going to make people stare at us."_

_"What's the difference?" Ed shouted. "We can be hella sure that somebody from Haven is here right now, watching us to make sure we don't make any wrong moves! Who cares about whoever else watches us, when the only one that matters is the one who's trying to KILL US?"_

_"Brother," said Al slowly._

_"What?" he snapped._

_"Are you saying that you're… scared for us?"

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_

**Haha, funny preview. The next chapter is, unfortunately, somewhat filler-y, that is, it doesn't really move the plot forward. However, I included it because we get a good look into what Al (and to some extent Ed) thinks of the letter from Haven.****Also, as you saw in the above preview, there's a bit about embarrassing Ed, and that's always hilarious, eh?**

**_REVIEW!_ THE POWER OF THE AUTHOR COMPELS YOU!**_  
_


	31. Train

**Not much to say about this chapter! I don't know whether I'd go so far as to label it 'filler,' because it does give some good insight into what Al (and to some extent Ed) thinks of the letter from Haven which was published on Friday. However, this one doesn't particularly move the plot forward; neither does the one after this, though both this chapter and Chapter 32 do have a purpose--they're not just there because they can be. You readers will really like 33 and 34, so that's something to look forward to, also, 33 and 34 are both huge, 1300-word-plus chapters--I have a feeling that the 30k-word mark for this story will pass me by easily in the next week and a half.**

**The theme song for this chapter is '99 Red Balloons' by Goldfinger. Not because it has anything to do with the contents of this chapter, mind you--it's just because while I was writing this one, that's what was stuck in my head the whole time. =D At least it's a GOOD song. Life would suck if the song stuck in my head was a bad song. For example, Hannah Montana. (*dies at the mention of her name*)**

**I don't own FMA!**

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Al explained the situation to Winry and Granny Pinako while the four of them sat on the 3:15 train out of Resembool Station. Just as Haven requested. Ed had claimed the window seat so he could stare out of the window sulkily (He hated being played like this; he liked being in control of the situation, especially when his family was involved).

"Anti-coup terrorist groups? That's a scary thought," said Pinako, though she didn't sound all that scared. Or perhaps her 'scared' voice just wasn't all that scared-sounding.

"When Brother talked to Mustang about it, Ed told me he got the impression that Mustang wasn't too concerned about them. Mustang thought they were pretty much amateurs."

"Well, Haven doesn't sound like an amateur group to me," Winry disagreed. "All these notes and complicated instructions and stuff… Seems like the work of a real mastermind. So… would you tell me what you think about the note that was sewn onto me?"

"Brother and I discussed it a little bit while we were in the house getting your stuff together, but we didn't get very far."

"Oh?"

"Mostly we fixated on the 'key-bearer' person, and on what 'prize' the 'key-bearer' was seeking. Haven made a point to use the impersonal 'they' when referring to the key-bearer. That might indicate that we're dealing with a woman, since Haven made such a big deal out of it, whereas if it was a man they could have said 'he' and it would have seemed just as impersonal. However, Haven might have just said 'they' to make us think it was a woman, thus narrowing down our search to only women we know who are strong enough emotionally to properly handle being threatened and sent on a scavenger hunt, and who are also determined enough to go on said scavenger hunt alone instead of asking for help or calling the police, and finally, who have something precious enough to risk their life to protect. That narrows it down very sharply. It's possible that Haven wants us to narrow it down to someone it's not, that way we'll be expecting a certain person, and we'll try to come up with a plan centered around that person, so that when we get there and it's not that person we expect, we'll be thrown off and we'll have to follow Haven's plan for us instead our own plan which would be harmful to Haven's plan."

"This is really complicated," said Winry, her forehead creasing as she thought about it. "So what you're saying is, you think it's a woman because Haven made a point of saying it may or may not be a woman. However, you also think it might be a man, because Haven wants you to think it's a woman, that way you'll come up with a plan which they will then render useless. In other words, you think it's some kind of convoluted form of reverse psychology?"

"Either that, or I'm overestimating the mental ability of Haven's 'mastermind', as you put it. The use of the word 'they' could mean nothing, which is basically how Brother saw it. Then again, Brother is somewhat single-minded. For example, when I tried to talk about how these instructions are ultimately helping Haven, Brother wanted to skirt the issue and focus more on the identity of the key-bearer."

"Could that be because Ed has his own idea and doesn't like it?" Winry speculated.

"That's kind of what I was thinking. Ed doesn't want to think about Haven's motives because he knows it's bad news for us."

"Could you guys stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Ed burst out.

"Sorry, but since you're not contributing anything…!" Winry defended.

"Calm down, Brother, Winry. You're going to make people stare at us," said Al.

"What's the difference?" Ed shouted. "We can be hella sure that somebody from Haven is here right now, watching us to make sure we don't make any wrong moves! Who cares about whoever else watches us, when the only one that matters is the one who's trying to KILL US?"

Pinako and Winry were both thinking the same thing as they pinched the bridges of their noses, covered their eyes with their hands, and sank down low in their seats: _Why do the people in my life have to be so temperamental?_

"Brother," said Al slowly.

"What?" he snapped.

"Are you saying that you're… scared for us?"

Ed changed colors beautifully, folded his arms, and angled himself toward the window, away from the others. "I didn't say that," he grumbled. "I was just trying to make a point about your stupid logic."

"Hey, that wasn't a no," Winry said, almost teasingly.

"Well, hell, what do you want me to say? 'No, I'm not scared for our lives'? Or 'Yes, I'm so terrified I want to curl up into a little ball and cry!' It's a trick question!"

"Fine, I give! Please, have mercy and quiet down so people will stop _staring!"_

"Hmph." Ed pressed his lips into a thin hard line and glared out the window again, and Winry muttered something that sounded like, "…needs to learn how to deal with his emotions better…"

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**Next chapter, "Waiting Game"**

_"Don't you think it would be less dangerous for Haven if we met up with someone we didn't know?" Ed prompted.  
_

_"Less _dangerous…?_" Al asked. _Dangerous?_ How was it dangerous?  
_

_"Meeting up with someone we know means that Haven runs the risk of us having a conversation."_

_"That is, swapping information. I think I understand now. So you think that Haven WANTS us to share what we know?"_

_"Yes. I think Haven wants us to meet with someone we know—someone who's probably also on a mission, on instructions from Haven, and Haven wants us to tell each other what's going on. Haven is sending us a message: 'We've got other people besides you in our control. And we're _so_ in control that we can afford to let you have information we didn't give you.'"_

_"Oh… That's kinda scary."_

_"Ha."

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_

**Haha, gave y'all an amusing final line for this chapter, eh? **

**Hey, remember way back a lifetime ago, in one of my ANs I said that I'd found a way to work some royai into the story? It's finally coming up! Look sharp, readers, it's hinted at in Chapter 33 and gets more obvious in later (as of yet unwritten) chapters!**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I got no reviews for the instructions in Chapter 30 and I was really hoping to see some feedback from my readers about the letter!**

**Also, this is kind of random, but the user LadyWordsmith, whose writing I discovered several days ago and I have been devouring ever since, is an AMAZING author who really ought to get out of fanfiction and write her own original fiction; she's that awesome--you guys should look her up! (But don't leave my fic for hers, either! D=)  
**


	32. Waiting Game

**I've already talked a little about this chapter, last chapter, so there's not much to say today. **

**Happy President's Day if you're an American, and if not, here's a free unscheduled chapter for no good reason!**

**I don't own FMA!**

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"I don't think you guys should stay in the rooms Haven reserved for us," said Ed as the four exited the taxi, lugging their suitcases and baggage out from the trunk.

"That doesn't make sense to me," said Winry. "Haven made it a point to accommodate us, right?"

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't be in those rooms," said Ed.

"Brother doesn't want to do every little thing the way Haven asks," said Al.

"Somebody from Haven had to have been in the rooms in order to set up the safes like the instructions say," said Ed. "Therefore, Haven has a key to our rooms. It'd be irresponsible of us to let you sleep there."

"But that's what you're going to do," Pinako pointed out.

"It's not the same thing," he muttered.

When Ed came up to the counter and gave his name, the clerk handed him two keys, one for each room. He paid for two more rooms on the same floor, ("Why two? Grandma and I can share," said Winry. "I took you two from your home, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I want you to at least be comfortable while you're no longer at home," Ed responded.)

Ed and Al insisted that Winry and Pinako not accompany them into the rooms that Haven had reserved, and made sure that the women had gone into their own rooms before unlocking the doors to Room 1572 and 1574, which sat side-by-side and had a door that could be opened which led into the sister suite. "There's a safe in here all right!" Al called to Ed while kneeling in front of it.

"Mine's locked," Ed called back, "but there's a note on it with what I guess is the combination."

"Don't open it, Brother!"

"Duh. How stupid do you think I am?"

Al appeared in the doorway. "So, now that Winry and Grandma are gone, do you think you could tell me what you didn't want to say on the train?"

Ed stood up straight and turned away from the safe to look at his brother. "Do you think it's weird that we have to meet up with someone else in order to continue our own mission?"

"Yeah, I guess. The note said it would be someone we recognize."

"Right. I think Haven wants us to swap information with the key-bearer."

"Information about Haven?"

Ed chuckled darkly. "What information about Haven? We're running blind in the dark when it comes to Haven."

"Then, what…?"

"Information about each other." Ed walked over to the bed and sat down. "Why do you think Haven would have us pass on that cryptic clue?"

"It probably means more to the key-bearer than it does to us."

"Why do you think the key-bearer would be someone we recognize? Don't you think it would be less dangerous for Haven if we met up with someone we didn't know?"

"Less dangerous…?"

"Meeting up with someone we know means that Haven runs the risk of us having a conversation."

"That is, swapping information. I think I understand now. So you think that Haven WANTS us to share what we know?"

"Yes. I think Haven wants us to meet with someone we know—someone who's probably also on a mission, on instructions from Haven, and Haven wants us to tell each other what's going on. Haven is sending us a message: 'We've got other people besides you in our control. And we're so in control that we can afford to let you have information we didn't give you.'"

"Oh… That's kinda scary."

"Ha. It gets better. We have to keep in mind that Haven is an anti-coup group. So whatever they're planning is likely related to restoring the old Fuhrer."

"Which is pointless, because we can't do it. It's too late."

"Exactly. But they don't know that. Anyway, here's the way I see it: The first two sets of instructions each sent us a message. The first one's message was, 'Your loved ones are in danger if you don't do as we say.' The second one's message is, 'We are bigger and more powerful than you know.' Now that Haven's proved its intentions to us, I figure the messages in the safes are the ones that really matter to Haven. They're the ones that will actually mean something to Haven."

"So what you're saying is, the first two messages were Haven securing us as its puppets, so to speak, and the next message will set Haven's master plan into motion?"

"That's about right."

"So what is Haven's master plan?"

"I wish I knew. I think the messages in the safes will pretty much tell us what Haven plans to do."

"So as far as what we can do right now…"

"It's a waiting game."

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**Next chapter, Ed and Al go to the warehouse...**

_The cat meowed. Ed looked at Al, then back at the cat, then at Al, and thought, _This cat has excellent timing.

_The cat meowed again._

_"You haven't been able to really touch a cat in almost five years," Ed murmured._

_Al bit his tongue to shut himself up._

_"Don't you want to just stroke its silky, soft fur?" Ed crooned, secretly repressing laughter.

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**The above is a joke sequence because a lot happens next chapter and I don't wanna ruin anything by not doing it justice. Yes, that scene does actually occur next chapter!**_  
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	33. Of Iron Companies and Alley Cats

**Ughhhh. It's becoming almost painful, knowing that after today I'm going to go back to posting every other day. Maybe I actually WILL post every day. I have received encouragement to that effect, actually... GRAHHHH! I'm so indecisive today!!**

**So, guess what? I'm sick. I have this nasty cough and... yeah. Thank God illness doesn't interrupt my writing, otherwise you guys would be in for a dry spell... actually no, since I have so many chapters lined up for y'all, there really ought not be a problem unless I were to fall ill for like, three weeks or something insane like that. **

**I don't own FMA, and review, please!

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"5:45," Al murmured when the second hand tapped on the twelve.

"Al, can you not report the time to me every time the minute changes? It's making me impatient." Ed stood up, stepped into his boots, and yanked his cloak of the back of the chair. "Shit. Let's just go."

"Good. Gives us extra time in case I'm slow." Al followed him out of the room. "You know where you're going?"

"Nah, not really. I think I have a decent understanding of where the districts are, though." Ed reached into his pocket and consulted the instructions from Haven. It was beginning to look beaten up: the crease in the paper was weakening from being opened and closed so many times, and little bits of black thread still weaved around the edges in some places. "Northeast. 4th Street. Warehouse District. Ferrus & Sons Iron. Ha ha, I get it, 'Ferrus,' sounds like 'ferrous,' as in iron."

"Oh, ha. That's a stupid pun."

"Or a stupid last name."

"That, too." They were approaching the end of Freedom Avenue now.

"This way," Ed said, pointing left.

"I bet Ferrus invented that name and had it legally changed when he started that company. He probably thought it was a clever pun."

"Yeah, or maybe he already had that name, and then decided to start an iron company because he thought it was funny."

"And it's what? Pure luck that Ferrus and sons happened to have the capital and motivation to start an iron company?"

"Oh, fine. Shoot down my theory. This way, go right." They went right.

The brothers conversed casually about light things like whimsically-named companies, alchemy, the adorable but single-minded Mei Chang of Xing (who continued to send Alphonse letters; "Wonder if her clan did all right," said Ed, "What the hell was with that cat she had? 'Xiaomei'? Freaky little bugger.") …Anything that didn't have to do with the place they were headed, and especially not anything that called attention to the way their pace got faster and more urgent the longer they walked along the oppressive streets of Central at twilight.

"'Ferrus & Sons Iron Co.,'" read Alphonse from the sign. "We're here." Without having to discuss it, the brothers walked around the side of the building with excruciating slowness, dragging their leaden feet and taking it in turns to glance nervously at the other.

"Maybe… maybe you should stay out here. We don't really know who's inside waiting for us... The note said it's someone we'd recognize, not someone who wasn't hostile to us."

"Stop making excuses so you can go alone. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

"It's a bad idea. Al, don't forget, you're not in the armor anymore! You're just a weak little boy now, and—"

"A 'weak little boy'? So what does that make you?" Al made a gesture that indicated the two inches or so he had over his older brother.

"_Who are you calling so short that subatomic particles have to crane their neck to see!_ Don't think that cracks on my height are gonna make me cave, Al!"

Alphonse grimaced at Ed. "Three things," he started ticking them off on his fingers, "One, I didn't say that. Two, stop shouting; it's dark and kinda scary out here and you're going to attract attention. Three, why does everything always have to be your way or the highway, Brother? If it's really as dangerous as you say then wouldn't you rather have me in your sight rather than standing outside and alone?"

Since Al was right, Ed pretended not to listen. "This topic is not open for discussion."

"That's—" Al began, but a sudden clanging noise further back in the alley made the Elrics simultaneously flinch in surprise and whirl to squint into the alley. There was the outline of a garbage can where the noise had originated; apparently something had knocked the lid off. Something too small to be human stalked toward them.

"What the hell is that…?" Ed muttered, but as soon as he spoke the animal stepped into the area without the shadow of the garbage can and it become obvious what it was. Its tail was straight up in the air and it was staring at Ed and Al as suspiciously as they were staring at it.

"It's a…" Ed began.

"An alley cat." Al finished.

The cat meowed. Ed looked at Al, then back at the cat, then at Al, and thought, _This cat has excellent timing. _

The cat meowed again.

"You haven't been able to really touch a cat in almost five years," Ed murmured.

Al bit his tongue to shut himself up.

"Don't you want to just stroke its silky, soft fur?" Ed crooned, secretly repressing laughter.

"I want to go with you. There will be other cats." But he didn't sound convinced.

"Come on. You know you'd rather play with the _kitty_ than go inside to participate in a terrorist-orchestrated information trade with another of Haven's puppets."

The cat stepped forward until it was five or so feet away from the humans, then sat down and looked at Al as if to say, "Why are you hesitating?"

"Don't be a jerk," said Al, "What makes you think that's all it will take to sway me?"

"Caaaaat," Ed sang.

Al made a few unintelligible sounds of annoyance, then rushed forward and scooped up the stray, which looked bewildered. It might have seemed as if it was asking to be petted, but it had really just been waiting to see if these humans had any food. Regardless, it was now being cradled by Alphonse, and it didn't have much say in the matter, so it waited patiently for release.

Al looked back at Ed. "Since I know you're not going to let me go in no matter what I say, I will stay outside with the cat until you are done. But if you take too long or I hear anything fishy, I won't hesitate to rush in after you."

"And if you need my help, just holler," said Ed. "And remember, the garbage cans in this alley are all made of iron, judging by the rust, so, worst case scenario, if you need a weapon you should use them."

"Yup. But I doubt I'll need a weapon, Brother. If Haven wanted us dead they could have easily—"

"We're not having this conversation," Ed cut across him. "I'm going inside now."

The door at the side of the building was metal, and it made a loud noise when Ed closed it, which echoed in the night and made the cat in Al's arms jump slightly in surprise.

Ed put his hands together, touched the door, and there was a small flash of light. The metal door itself became slightly denser, and there was now a fist-sized hole where the lock and knob had been. (He didn't want to get locked in or played by the goons from Haven, so getting rid of the lock was a precautionary measure.)

The warehouse was dark, with the only light coming from two long thin windows at the very top of the 50-foot high ceiling on opposite walls. The twilight gave the warehouse a creepy bluish aura and cast shadows over the scattered piles of old and dusty crates. There was a figure standing near the very center of the room, facing away from Edward, but he could tell it was an adult, and male. Ed squinted harder into the semidarkness, then called out. "Hey!"

The figure didn't turn, but he twitched a bit, so he'd obviously heard Ed's shout. He frowned, trying to remember his codename… _Oh, right._ "Hey. I am the 'page'!"

"I'm the key something or other." The man turned around, strode toward Ed, and frowned down at him. "Fullmetal, there better be some _damn good fucking reason_ why you're taking orders from Haven."

"I could ask you the same question, shitty colonel."

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**Next chapter...**

_"Why are _you_ here? Committing casual high treason? Fuhrer Armstrong will have your ass. And as if _she's_ not scary enough, I cringe to imagine what Colonel Hawkeye will do to you."_

_"Fine. On the count of three, we'll both say our reasons at the same time, sound good?"_

_"Fine. One…" Ed began._

_"Two…" Mustang continued._

_"Three," they said together, then, at the same moment both men glanced intently at their feet. Ed said, "They tried to kill her," and Mustang said, "They took her."_

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**_WHAAAT?_ What is Mustang doing in the warehouse? And what's with that preview? The author is currently grinning sadistically at her computer screen.**

**As I said in a previous chapter, if I get enough reviews to that effect, I will start posting daily. If not, next post is on Thursday!  
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	34. Warehouse Exchange

**Change of plans! In honor of the fifteenth birthday of Kurisuta1 (someone who, if we knew each other in real life, we would be best friends, I'm certain--even though she's freshman age) today, I am posting a pair of chapters today, and I've also decided to give up on posting chapters every other day and just post daily. The exceptions to the daily posting rule will be henceforth few and far between, namely, when I'm feeling too sick or lazy to type, which if you knew me you would know can't happen, I'm just too computer-addicted to not type, especially not when there's a story in my head as exciting as this one.

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"Fullmetal, I'm serious. Why are you here?"

"Hell if I'm telling you. And anyway, why are_ you_ here? Committing casual high treason? Fuhrer Armstrong will have your ass. And as if _she's_ not scary enough, I cringe to imagine what Colonel Hawkeye will do to you."

Mustang twitched slightly. "Fine. On the count of three, we'll both say our reasons at the same time, sound good?"

"Fine. One…" Ed began.

"Two…" Mustang continued.

"Three," they said together, then, at the same moment, Ed said, "They tried to kill her," and Mustang said, "They took her." Both of them blinked, then, again at the same moment, Ed said, "Colonel Hawkeye?" and Mustang said, "Your mechanic girl?" There was another beat, then both of them admitted, "Yeah."

"Colonel Hawkeye's been kidnapped!?"

"Yeah, but—"

"That's humanly possible!?"

"Believe me, she didn't make it easy!"

"Sorry?"

Mustang seemed to puff up a little bit. "Yesterday, when she didn't show up for work, and I received the first letter from Haven, three known lower-level grunts involved in anti-coup activity turned up in the Central Area Hospital emergency room. Two of them had nonlethal gunshot wounds and the third had a decent concussion from a blow to the back of the skull. Their story was shaky at best, likely invented."

"_Non_lethal gunshot wounds?" Ed repeated.

"Even though they were kidnapping her, Hawkeye made sure not to kill anyone. She knows as well as we do that these people don't know what they're fighting for, and she clearly didn't want them to die of misinformation. But enough about her; as far as I can tell she's safe. What happened with your mechanic girlfriend?"

"One: she has a name, you know," Ed snapped. "It's Winry. Two: she's not my girlfriend. And three: in answer to your question, Haven went all the way out to Resembool and gassed their house. Winry, her grandma, and the dog were all almost goners."

"So Haven is basically holding them over your head as hostages; got it. Clearly we each have our own problems to deal with. Where's Alphonse?"

"Outside."

"You left a vulnerable little boy who's been all but starved for four years out in an alley alone?"

"Better than bringing him with me! Al has the ability to transmute without a circle, so he'll be able to protect himself if something happens. What kind of idiot would I be if I brought my little brother into an abandoned warehouse for a shady trade with someone who may or may not be hostile?"

"Point taken. Speaking of the trade," Mustang reached into his pocket (he was in civvies, not his military uniform) and pulled out a large white envelope which had been evidently folded in half to fit. "The letter I got," he explained, and opened the envelope to pull out the slip of paper inside. "It's in Riza's handwriting, so I know it's legit. Included here are two keys, which I'm to give to you, and I'm also supposed to tell you a bunch of numbers, which looks like a combination code, and I hope that means something to you 'cause it means nothing to me."

"Yeah, it does." Ed unfolded his own note and looked at the paragraph with the message for Roy. "I'm supposed to give you this riddle. And since you brought this up, I know this one's legit because I found it on Winry's person right after she recovered from the gas."

"You searched her person?" Mustang teased, somehow able to be playful even in this serious of a situation.

"Shut up. She found it herself. Look, do you want your cryptic riddle or not?"

"Lay it on me."

"The prize you seek is hidden in the smoky room," Ed recited, "and it has already lost animation. The next clue can be found at the desk of the one who keeps notes. The note will be written at the beginning, as the note-keeper clocks in." Ed looked up from the paper. "That mean anything to you?"

Mustang looked disturbed. "'The prize you seek,' that's Riza. 'The smoky room,' of course refers to fire; it's a taste of my own medicine. Maybe Riza is in an actual smoke-filled room or a burning building; it's hard to be sure if they're being literal or not. 'Already lost animation' means that she's either unconscious, or…" He trailed off, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"…Right," Ed said, saving him, "Got that part. Go on."

"'The desk of the one who keeps notes' doesn't make much sense, a lot of people have desks and keep notes, same for 'the note will be written at the beginning,' which is why Haven phrased the last bit as they did. 'As the note-keeper _clocks in,' _referring to a worker. A worker who keeps notes; it's my secretary. Therefore, 'the note will be written at the beginning, as the note-keeper clocks in,' is telling me that my secretary is going to receive a call or a letter in the morning. Probably 7:45 or 8:00, since that's about when she clocks in."

"So tomorrow morning you're getting your next clue," Ed guessed. "Wow, I can't believe you got all that from three cryptic little sentences."

"It was an easily breakable code; Haven wasn't trying to confuse me. It's probably that Haven didn't want to send you too much of the information meant for me. The code would only make sense if you have the information I do."

"Right. Anyway, about my keys…"

"Here. And the code is 40, 04, 32, 18, and Haven notes that the code is 'double,' I don't know if that means you have to repeat it twice, or—"

"There are two safes we have to open with these keys, Haven means that the code works in both of them."

"Ah, two safes, that explains why there are also numbers on the wide parts of the keys."

"1574 and 1572," said Ed immediately, "The room numbers the keys correspond to."

"The safes you're supposed to be opening are where, exactly…?"

"In the Hamick, paid for and rigged by Haven."

"What's inside?"

"A bomb. And our next instructions."

"I get it, so the numbers are some kind of deactivation code?"

"You catch on quick," Ed noted. "Good. I hate explaining things, especially to a shitty colonel."

"I'm a general."

"You keep thinking that, Colonel."

"I'm leaving now. Got a _real _colonel to rescue."

"Good, me too, got a bomb to disable."

"Good luck, Fullmetal."

"You, too."

Mustang and Ed shared an uncharacteristic handshake.

"Protect the people you love," Mustang muttered to himself, almost too quietly to be heard, before turning around and walking away, toward the back of the warehouse, where Ed noticed another door.

"Hey, shitty colonel!" Ed called after him.

"What?" Mustang asked without turning around.

"I'm still waiting to give you that 520 cenz!"

"…I know."

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**Corny ending, bringing up the 520-cenz promise (if anyone doesn't remember that, there's an entire chapter named after that particular promise; look it up!), but Ed wanted to says something encouraging to Roy because Ed knew that while he was acting under the**_** threat**_** of another incident like what happened at the house, Roy was acting under the **_**reality**_** that Riza had been captured and was also suffering because of that part of the hint from Haven that said, 'has already lost animation,' which Roy can't help thinking means they've already killed her and are just toying with him now, stringing him along to try to get a rise out of the military. Ed knew all that, and heard Mustang murmur the little reminder to himself of why he wanted to be Fuhrer, and so Ed knew he had to say something encouraging to keep Roy's spirits up. **

**Hey, guys! While Mustang told us in Chapter 20, "What's Up With Central City?" that he'd been promoted to General since the coup, you guys didn't really know what else had happened to the other military characters, so that was a sort of secondary motive behind this chapter: I wanted to let you guys know that I didn't forget everyone else! (That was also the ulterior motive in Chapter 21, "Four Letters," because Al got a letter from Mei, who evidently still loves him ((and knows his P.O. box!)) ) In Chapter 20 there was a brief, vague reference to a "Fuhrer Armstrong," but of course we know the Armstrongs are a 'proud and noble family' according to the Major and therefore, who's to say that the Armstrong I referred to was even an Armstrong we know? I made that more specific in this chapter with Ed's line; not only do we now know that this "Fuhrer Armstrong" is female, she is also apparently scary enough to be **_**labeled**_** scary by Ed, who is the type of person who would like everyone to believe that he is fearless. Obviously, "Fuhrer Armstrong" is Olivia Armstrong. Oh, yes, and while I'm on the topic of the military: Show of hands, who noticed that Hawkeye also got a promotion?**

**Aha, and while we're on the subject of Hawkeye, did anyone notice that at the beginning of the chapter Roy called her Hawkeye, but when he pulled out the letter in her handwriting which Haven apparently forced her to write, he called her Riza? And then, after Ed has read the clue and Mustang 'looked disturbed,' he called her Riza for the rest of the chapter? Yes, it's kinda subtle, but I put that in there on purpose!**

**This enormous AN corresponds to the hugeness of the chapter, but sorry about its hugeness, anyway!

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**Next chapter, what could make Ed say this?**

_"That hypothetical Havoc is a real numb-nuts, telling military secrets to his gossipy imaginary wife."_


	35. Al's Theory

**Already said all I needed to say today in the AN to the preceding chapter, which was pretty hideous with the length. One other thing though: Anybody see _American Idol_ last night? (This will have no meaning to people who read this chapter after today, lol.) Was it just me or did everyone suck? And the judges couldn't find ANYONE whose song choice they liked, it seemed! What was with that girl who sang The Police?  
**

**Also, happy birthday to Kurisuta1, whose birthday and exuberance over this story has caused me to post her this, and the previous chapter.**

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"I think you overestimated Haven, Brother."

"Huh? What are you talking about, Al?" Ed was just pushing open the metal door whose lock he'd destroyed earlier.

A was sitting cross-legged on the concrete. He appeared to have acquired a second cat in the time Ed had been gone, since there was now a gray one purring in his lap alongside the original black-and-brown one. "I think you overestimated them," Al repeated, "I don't think Haven is watching us 24/7 like you said on the train."

"Oh? Then how do you figure they knew my lost-my-arm-in-the-Eastern-rebellion story was a coverup?"

"I think Haven found an insider."

"Are you saying that—?"

"Don't get mad yet, Brother, just let me finish before you say anything, okay?"

"Fine, but let's walk and talk, we gotta get back to the Hamick."

Al stood up, brushed himself off, and bade good-bye to the cats. "Here's what occurred to me: I think Haven might have found someone who's close enough to the military that they know how you really lost your limbs. It might not necessarily be someone we told the story to… I'm not implying that someone close to us betrayed us, Brother. But just as an example, let's say that Havoc got married and one day he told her our story, or at least a simplified version of it, and he assumed that she knew not to tell anyone. But then the next day Havoc's wife told the story to her best girlfriend while they were gossiping about this and that—but Havoc's wife swore the girlfriend to secrecy. Then let's say the girlfriend is giving a pep talk to a girls soccer team and she relays a simplified version of our story, but didn't name us: She just wanted to make the point that kids the same age as the girls on the soccer team can be strong people, overcome all odds, et cetera. And then let's say one of the girls on the soccer team goes home and tells her mom and dad our story, and the dad's a member of Haven, and the dad realizes there's only one person who became a state alchemist at twelve, and he puts two and two together, and then tells the rest of Haven what he's learned."

"That hypothetical Havoc is a real numb-nuts, telling military secrets to his gossipy imaginary wife," Ed observed.

"You're missing the point, Brother. I'm saying it's possible that our story got leaked somehow."

"Yeah, I guess it _is_ a possibility," Ed said thoughtfully, then switched gears: "Anyway, did you want me to tell you what happened inside the warehouse?"

"Of course! Did you get the keys and the codes?"

"Keys are in my pocket with the note, code is in my head; 40-04-32-18."

"Good. Who was in the warehouse?"

"General Mustang."

Al made an unintelligible sputtering noise, then quieted for a minute, processing.

"You're surprised?" Ed asked.

"General Mustang is working for Haven?"

"No, of course not, have you no faith? Think about the note. It contained a clue to give to the General. If Mustang was working for Haven, why would they need to communicate with him through us?"

"Oh… yeah. That makes sense. So what did General Mustang tell you, Ed?"

"'Bout what?"

"About Haven, about the 'prize' he's seeking according to the note, about what we're supposed to do about the Haven issue… about _anything,_ really."

"Well, first of all, he indirectly told me that there are some members of Haven known to the military. That's helpful to know. We might be able to use my military status to gain access to that information. I haven't really thought this through all the way, but maybe if we follow up on those guys, we could find out who's running Haven and sending us these letters. It's a long shot, but…"

"We have to try," Al finished for him. "I understand. Unless the instructions say specifically otherwise, after we've opened our safes, tomorrow we should look for government information concerning Haven." Ed nodded approvingly, and Al continued to his next question. "So why was the General here? Did he tell you what the 'prize' he was searching for is?"

"Not 'what,' 'who,'" Ed corrected. "Haven somehow managed to kidnap Colonel Hawkeye."

"Ha, ha, Brother. That's not funny."

"It's not a joke, Al. They've really got her."

"Somebody managed to overpower _Riza Hawkeye_?" Al asked incredulously.

"According to Mustang, she went down in one hell of a fight. Three known Haven grunts turned up on the hospital after she was kidnapped."

"_Only_ three? Hawkeye's walked away from fights with Barry the Chopper and Gluttony; she was instrumental to the coup; she fought in Ishbal, she…"

"She was going for nonlethal hits, apparently," Ed explained.

"Oh, that explains it, then. I can't imagine anyone walking away from Hawkeye taking _lethal_ shots."

"Ha, you can say _that_ again."

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**Next chapter, the contents of the letter in Ed's safe!**


	36. WE ARE HAVEN III

**I'm so lucky I had chapters prepared in advance to post. If that hadn't been the case, you readers would have had a delay—this chapter took me ages to perfect. I knew pretty much where I wanted to go, but I had to really consider the timing in relation to what the other characters were doing, and I had to come up with a setting for Haven's ultimate revenge scene, and I had to decide how much information Haven wanted to give Ed concerning the others. You wouldn't believe how many chapters reliant on the content of this letter were written before the actual contents of this letter! **

**Notice as you're reading this that it is addressed to Ed only; because of course the letters Al and Ed got were separate. Mustang, we know, is also on his own quest, and you don't get to see Mustang's letters, though from Mustang's actions you can get a pretty good idea of the contents of his letter, which is why I don't feel it necessary to explain what's in his letter; you'll find out later on. However, since there's never any substantial hints as to what was in Al's letter (at least, no hints have been planned; I can't say for 100% certain that Al won't say anything about his letter), I'll just let you guys settle for knowing that Al's letter contained no real information or instructions other than threats to his family, the Rockbells, Mustang, Hawkeye, etc., and warnings that he should not, under any circumstances, interfere with Haven's plans. So basically, nothing he didn't already know. Al's main concern is that he didn't get any information, and he figures it's therefore very likely that Ed DID get information, and since they can't swap notes, Al has to worry about what Ed's going to have to do.**

**Since the above AN, which was all written at the same time as the chapter, is so long already, I don't think there's much I want to say, except thanks for reviewing, everyone who did so! Also, I passed 30k words last chapter, thanks to the birthday we were (more like I was) celebrating! I love it when I see new usernames in my review alerts, so pelase, keep them coming! And to my repeat reviewers: S J Smith, Kurisuta1, and Harryswoman, (the preceding usernames were not in any particular order I'll have you know), I jsut want to say you guys are so awesome for encouraging me and I feel really glad to know you have some dedication to ENAT!**

**I don't own FMA.**

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_FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST EDWARD ELRIC:_

_ONCE AGAIN YOU HAVE COMPLETED YOUR TASKS TO HAVEN'S DESIRED END. _

_WE ARE AWARE THAT YOU AND GENERAL MUSTANG SWAPPED INFORMATION WHEN YOU MET AT THE WAREHOUSE; ACTUALLY WE ARE COUNTING ON IT. THE THREAT TO COLONEL HAWKEYE STANDS AS IT WAS IN OUR LAST LETTER. IF YOU REVEAL TO ANYONE, ESPECIALLY ALPHONSE, THE CONTENTS OF THIS LETTER, COLONEL HAWKEYE'S DEATH WILL BE ON YOUR HANDS. AND DO NOT FORGET THAT THE ROCKBELL MECHANICS ARE ALSO AT OUR MERCY. _

_WITH THAT IN MIND, TAKE THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION WITH THE UTMOST SERIOUSNESS:_

_THE MONUMENT TO THE GOLDEN MAN OF THE WEST WHICH IS LOCATED AT THE INTERSECTION OF FREEDOM AVENUE AND MONUMENT BOULEVARD HAS A KEY STUCK FAST TO THE BACK OF HIS LEFT SHOE. GO TO THE MONUMENT AND USE ALCHEMY TO REMOVE THE KEY. _

_AT 11:00 TOMORROW NIGHT YOU WILL TRAVEL TO THE OLD ABANDONED FOARDLEIGH JUNKYARD AT THE END OF ERIE ROAD OFF ATLAS AVENUE IN THE EASTERN FACTORY DISTRICT OF CENTRAL CITY. USE THE KEY FROM THE MONUMENT TO UNLOCK THE GATES OF THE JUNKYARD, THEN FOLLOW THE MAIN PATH TEN ROWS IN, MAKE A LEFT, GO THREE ROWS ACROSS, AND YOU WILL FIND US WAITING FOR YOU IN PERSON._

_TELL NO ONE WHERE YOU ARE GOING OR WHY. TELL NO ONE THE CONTENTS OF THE LETTER._

_YOU SHOULD BE AWARE THAT THERE IS ONE PERSON WHO WILL KNOW WHERE YOU ARE GOING TONIGHT. IF THEY ARRIVE AT YOUR HOTEL ROOM AT 10:00 PM AND TELL YOU NOT TO GO TO FOARDLEIGH, THEN YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THEY HAVE HAD TO CHOOSE BETWEEN YOU AND SOMEONE ELSE DEAR TO THEM, AND YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT THAT PERSON VALUES YOUR LIFE SO MUCH. IF THIS PERSON DOES NOT COME TO YOU BETWEEN 10:00 AND 11:00, THEY HAVE SACRIFICED YOU FOR ANOTHER. _

_COME TO THE JUNKYARD PREPARED TO DIE._

_IF YOU DO NOT ARRIVE AND HAVEN BECOMES AWARE THAT YOUR 'SAVIOR' HAS CHOSEN THE OTHER PERSON, ALPHONSE, WINRY, AND PINAKO ARE AS GOOD AS DEAD BY NOON THE FOLLOWING DAY.

* * *

_

**Next chapter, "Sleepless Night,"**

Edward: I want to, but I just can't tell them what's going to happen; I couldn't even if I'd been permitted to. Al would try to stop me, and Winry… Yeah, that would just be a mess. She'd hit me. Or cry. Somehow each of those options are worse than the other.

Winry: I never really thought about how much being poisoned would make me sick. I guess I never had a reason to! The fever is the worst; it's impossible to sleep like this! Ed and Al were both so distracted and stressed-out that they didn't notice, and Grandma is dealing with the same thing, I'm sure. But what really worries me is the way the boys have been acting… If there was something seriously wrong, they _would_ tell me… wouldn't they?

Roy: I never thought I'd have to make this call, but I know what I'm going to do. Fullmetal, I'm counting on you not to die before I can break the rules!

Riza: I didn't want this to happen! "Please God, don't let it happen," I prayed. "Don't let him make the wrong choice." God didn't answer. He never does… of course; I already knew that, because how could any deity have sat back and ignored _Ishbal_?

* * *

**I am really proud of this preview! It's in first person, but, for the most part, Chapter 37 is in third. These are in first person perspective because it gives you a better feel for what the chapter's like, emotionally.**

**Anyway, review! And see you tomorrow!**


	37. Sleepless Night

**I've been sick for about a week now and I'm running a fever: 99.2, which is high for me because I run at around 95-96 degrees. You readers are super lucky I've got so many chapters queued up ready to be posted, otherwise there wouldn't be anything at all, 'cause I haven't had the energy to write these past four or so days. My cat seems to know I'm sick. She's being way more cuddly than usual!  
**

**I'm loving the fact that I have more reviews than chapters! Keep 'em coming! I respond to about 80% of my reviews in general, and 100% of the ones that ask me questions or have concerns about my writing.**

**I don't own FMA!**

**Edward**

He couldn't sleep that night. How could he, when he knew what was coming?

_What am I going to do? I can't die, not now, I'm still practically a kid!_

_How will I explain to Al? Pinako? Winry? They'll never forgive me if I trade my life for theirs. I've made so many promises… I promised I'd get my body back… Al, Win, Grandma, Hawkeye. What kind of asshole will I be if I renege by dying? _

_I can't make everyone cry over me; I knew that when the metal beam got shoved through my stomach—I knew I couldn't stand knowing they would cry over me, even if I was dead and gone when they did. It was horrible to think about then, as it is now. _

_When I used alchemy to seal up that wound, I knew I was probably shortening my lifespan to do so… but I didn't really think too hard about what that meant at the time. For all I know, my lifespan might be so short I will die tomorrow anyway. Ugh, how could I have been so stupid? _

_Is it worth it, though? My life for theirs, equivalent exchange? _

_No, that can't be right… No. Haven's not the decider; it's not Haven's job to play God with my life and theirs on the line. _

_This is so much my fault, and yet so much not. Why me? Why do I have to die? So many have died already… my death will be meaningless. How can the misinformation of the public have led to such a mess? Why is it that no matter how I look at this situation, it always ends with either I or my family dying?_

_What am I supposed to do?  
_

Somehow he found himself leaving his hotel room, walking across the hall. He had the key to Winry's room—he'd made sure that he had copies of everyone's room key. In case there was an emergency, he didn't want to end up locked out.

Certainly this counted as an emergency…

It was pretty late by now… Maybe he should knock first.

No, wait. What was he doing? Even if she wasn't asleep—which she probably was—what was Ed going to say to her if she was awake? _Hey, Winry, I just wanted to see your face one more time while I wait patiently for either someone trying to prevent my death or the time when I must offer myself up to the terrorists in exchange for yours, Al's, and Pinako's lives._ Yeah, right, that would go over well.

She'd hit him.

Or cry.

Each was worse than the other.

Ed leaned against the door to Winry's room, 1575, then sank to the floor and put his head in his hands… but then that didn't help, even his own body reminded him of her…The automail; her best work for her best childhood friend, as she'd always used to say.

All he had to do was knock on her door. Or he could cross the hall and knock on Alphonse's. The rooms around him were full of people who loved him unconditionally, who would help him bear his burden, and yet he could not summon the courage to knock on the damn door.

Knowing he was going to die tonight, how could Ed knock on Winry's door with the hand she'd so lovingly given him?

**Winry**

She couldn't sleep that night. All that day, Ed and Al had been subdued, and they hadn't said more than five words each to her: "Good morning, Winry," and "Good night."

It gave her a sick feeling… They'd told her they couldn't tell what was in their letters, so surely didn't that mean it was bad news?

Where had Ed gone when he'd left around midday without explanation?

Why were they both so nervous today? She knew they were scared—all day Al had been fidgety, and Ed had been still; it was a dead giveaway on both of their parts.

Of course, neither of them had noticed the fever she'd been running all day today and all night last night. If she had told someone, would they have paid her more attention? Maybe it was good that she hadn't told; she didn't want them worrying about her on top of worrying about Haven. However, she wondered if it was a bad idea that she had kept secret the fact that she was still suffering from whatever had poisoned her at home in Resembool. Furthermore, she'd eaten next to nothing, and though she felt hungry, the nausea that came on and off prevented her from eating.

The fever was the worst, though. It was impossible to sleep.

Winry sat on the single armchair in her room. It was dark, and she hadn't bothered to turn on the lights.

She fingered the ring on her hand, and wondered what it really meant to Ed… she certainly knew how much it meant to her.

Maybe… would it be so horrible if she went over to Ed's room and checked up on him? He'd made sure she had his key, so it wouldn't even be an issue.

Ah, the nausea was coming back now. What a horrible feeling.

Yes, she needed Ed, she needed Grandma, she needed someone who would take care of her… but then, no… She wouldn't burden either of them with that.

And besides, Ed was probably asleep.

**Roy**

This was sick, just sick—how could they force him to sacrifice Fullmetal for Hawkeye, or vice versa?

No, he wouldn't do that. Maybe there was another way…?

Okay, so it was a long shot, but it was the best he could come up with, and he would have to rely heavily on Fullmetal's ability to survive long enough for him to get there, but…

He would have to get Riza first. She was restrained and at Haven's mercy, so if he didn't come for her she had no chance. Then, after he'd gotten Riza, he would rush to where he now knew Fullmetal would be, and with a bit of luck, there would be time…

He had to make a decision, and he had to make the right one, and he had to do it now… Roy made a turn down the street where Haven had said the directions to Riza would be, speaking to Ed Elric inside his head as if he could mentally yell it loud enough and Edward would telepathically hear and obey.

_Come on, Fullmetal, please don't go down without a fight!_

**Riza**

When she gained consciousness the first time, she was pissed off. She'd kicked her legs, which had been bound together, and caught the first man in his weakest place, but then the second guy had reacted quickly and knocked her over the head with the butt of his gun, so she'd passed out again.

A few minutes later when she came to the second time, she'd flung out her elbow and caught someone in the gut. They'd just wrapped her up with more ropes and dumped her in the closet where she couldn't reach anything else.

At some point, they had lit the fire, and she tried to stay awake, but there was too much smoke, she couldn't breathe, she got lightheaded, and she was out again.

The fire had gone out though, at least it had mostly gone out, and she'd come awake again. She didn't know how long she'd been out, but the guards outside seemed to feel comfortable enough that they were talking freely. So she'd probably been out a long time.

They were talking about their plans, and how clever the president of haven was; they must have been talking in code or something… what did havens have to do with anything? And since when did they have presidents--it was absurd! That didn't matter, though, because then they started talking about flame, but they said it with a capital letter in their tones, so she knew flame was Flame, the General, the one she'd promised herself to protect, the one she'd trusted her back to. But then… No! He couldn't be coming here? What were they talking about, a sacrifice? Was he going to sacrifice someone else for her! No, he couldn't! That was horrible, how could he even think for one second that her life was worth anyone else's? …As quietly as possible, she struggled against her bonds, but they really had her tight this time, and every tiny movement of her head made gravity swing wildly and painfully… Riza hated feeling helpless.

She listened some more, but the news got worse, and she found out just who the 'sacrifice' was…

_Please, God, don't let Roy make such a horrible decision for my sake!_ she begged in her head. But God didn't answer. He never did… of course; she already knew that, because how could any deity have sat back and ignored _Ishbal_?

* * *

**Next chapter...**

_"Riza," he said to initiate a response; he wanted to confirm just how awake she was. Apparently she was only faking the semiconsciousness, because she lurched forward and head-butted Roy crouching in front of her._

_"Ah! Ow, my nose! You really got me good there, Hawkeye."_

_"Ah… Col… General," she said hoarsely. "Sorry, Sir. Thought you were the other guy."_


	38. Smoky Shanty

"Riza? Oh, fuck." She wasn't even in here! Roy couldn't believe it; Haven had tricked him? And after he'd suffered all night and done all their little stupid tasks just to make those assholes tell him where they were hiding her... Damn it! Holding his sleeve over his nose and mouth to prevent himself breathing in too much of the smoke which filled the shanty, Roy gave it a final once-over.

It was only one room, no bed even, though there was a pallet of blankets on the floor in the corner; he wondered if that had been were a guard had slept, probably with a gas mask if one had slept there-the smoke filling this room was intense; apparently somebody had purposely stopped up the fireplace on the eastern wall, then lit the fire to fill the whole place with smoke. Idiots! That was a good way to burn this whole place down! If Riza had been hidden here, it would have mattered.

There was also a sink that looked too old to run water anymore, several piles of medium-sized boxes and trunks in various corners and in the middle of the floor (none of them were large enough to hold a full-grown woman, so Roy didn't bother checking), and there was a small door on the opposite side of the room from the entrance, probably a closet or a WC.

Roy turned around and walked back toward the open doorway, but hesitated in the frame and stood still, listening. He had a gut feeling, and when you were a soldier, your gut was right as often as your head.

Aha! A small noise that didn't belong in a slummy shanty at city limits in the middle of the night: the sound of someone shifting their weight atop a creaky piece of wood. Roy turned around and looked for the source of the movement; his eyes moved to the door to what he'd thought was the WC. Duh, they'd hidden her in the closet.

Roy opened the little door and with a surge of relief found the one he was seeking. Riza had been restrictively tied in six different places and was also tied to a heavy trunk-looking thing that was sunken partially into the floor of the closet and had heavy-duty metal rings attached to its surface. Riza's ropes were knotted to these 'anchors.'

Ha, Roy had known she would have had to be unconventionally tied; kudos to Haven for not underestimating her.

She was blindfolded and semiconscious; she made a groaning noise that sounded like she was trying really hard to say something and not succeeding. Thankfully, aside from some rope-burn which was probably self-inflicted by her struggling, she appeared none the worse of wear.

Riza was tied at the wrists, the ankles, and knees; the standard places you were supposed to tie a hostage, however she also had a rope around her upper torso, pinning her arms to her sides, and there was also a complicated knot that basically pulled her knees to her chest in an inescapable fetal position. Her head slumped forward, resting on her knees, and her hair stuck every which way wherever it wasn't held in place by the blindfold.

"Riza," he said to initiate a response; he wanted to confirm just how awake she was. Apparently she was only faking the semiconsciousness, because she lurched forward and head-butted Roy crouching in front of her.

"Ah! Ow, my nose! You really got me good there, Hawkeye."

"Ah... Col... General," she said in a weak and hoarse voice. Even though she'd been drowned in smoke for three days like a colony of bees at a honey farm, she didn't seem to have much trouble keeping a clear head. Roy wondered if it was due to sheer willpower, or the amateurism of Haven. Actually, now that he thought of it, if they'd really left her in a smoky closet for three days she'd have died, so either she hadn't been in the closet the whole time, or they hadn't been smoking up the shanty the whole time, or a little of both.

"Sorry, Sir. Thought you were the other guy." She coughed; it made a horrible dry, rough noise that was sick to think about. Huh... Maybe Haven was less amateuristic than he'd thought.

"Yeah, well, I guess I was asking for it, getting in your range like that." He reached forward and yanked her blindfold down. Now it hung loosely around her neck. He'd untie it properly in a few minutes. Then he gave her ropes a once-over and chuckled. "Look at how they wrapped you up. You must've put up one hell of a fight. Of course, I didn't expect anything less."

"Not important, Col-General; what are you doing here?"

"Not important," he dismissed her question like she'd dismissed his. Roy reached into his pocket and found a pen and a pocketknife. He stared at both objects. Magical or manual, that was the question.

After barely a second's consideration, Mustang put the pocketknife away and went to work sketching little transmutation circles on the ropes holding her to the trunk's anchors. This looked like Manila hemp, if he wasn't mistaken, and he knew its composition fairly well even though these sorts of objects weren't his forte to transmute.

The pieces of the rope where he'd drawn circles glowed and severed themselves. Wanting to get out of the smoky room quickly, Roy didn't undo every single rope just yet, only the ones that held her to the 'anchors,' then he hoisted Riza up and ran her out of the shanty, rushing into the cool night air outside. He set her on the sidewalk (there was no grass in front of the shanty, just concrete) and went about undoing the remainder of the ropes with somewhat less urgency.

"Col—General, is this supposed to be your idea of a rescue mission?" Riza demanded while he worked.

"Yeah, pretty much; I followed Haven's instructions and they led me to you."

"'Haven' are the people who kidnapped me?" she verified.

"Yeah. Anti-coup terrorists. I'm ashamed to say we underestimated them. It's all my fault this happened." He sighed heavily at this confession.

"Sir, there's something I need to..." She broke off and coughed wetly.

Knowing the effects of smoke damage pretty well, Roy was expecting this. He wished her could take her to a hospital right away, but as he helped her stand and they went back to his car, Roy knew there just wasn't that much time. "I'm not here as a military officer," Roy reminded her, "Riza, you don't have to..."

"Fine then, Roy! I was just going to say that if you're here and not in that junkyard then there's no longer any doubt in my mind that you're an idiot!" She leaned back against the headrest while Roy gunned the engine of this car that just did not want to go that fast. Her hands came up and started rubbing her temples.

"Headache?" Roy asked when he looked over at her and noticed what she was doing. He clenched his teeth; panicking just a little. His mind went straight to the chemical content of your average smoke—_carbon monoxide?_

"Don't change the subject," she said crossly. "You shouldn't _be_ here!"

She'd mentioned the junkyard. How much did she know? "Sorry, but I had to prioritize!"

"That's what you call ki-" She broke off coughing and shook her finger at him with a look that distinctly said, "Just you wait, Roy Mustang, as soon as I'm done coughing my lungs out you'll get a piece of my mind!" Roy waited until she was done hacking and wheezing, then she picked up right where she'd left off. "Is that what you call letting people die in my place? 'Prioritizing'?"

"Of course not!" he said defensively. "What kind of an asshole do you think I am?"

"Oh? What's your excuse this time, Mustang?" She folded her arms under her breasts and glared at the windshield.

"I'm counting on Edward's ability to not die right off the bat," he explained quickly, before she had a chance to interrupt. "I had to decide which of you had the greatest chance of survival, and he was it. Right now I'd love to take you to the ER at Central and have them take a look at your lungs, but there's just not time."

"You're going to the junkyard," she realized.

"Yeah. Hey, do me a favor and check out the backseat, Riza," he said with a small smile in his voice.

"What?" she muttered and twisted to see what he was suggesting before breaking into a smile of her own. Sitting on the bench seat in the back was the gun she always kept on her person, the same one she'd used when she'd unsuccessfully tried to defend herself from her Havenite capturers, along with way more ammunition than she could even carry on her person. He'd cleaned it, apparently, since there was no longer blood on the butt of the gun where she'd struck one of the men in the back of the head. "You went to my apartment? And got my gun?"

"You haven't been without a weapon of some kind for what, a decade? More? I figured you'd be uncomfortable without it."

"You're right." She reached back and grabbed the gun, ejecting the clip into her hand to look at it. Empty. Mustang hadn't refilled it. The only reason she had been captured by Haven in the first place was the fact that she didn't normally go to sleep with extra cartridges on her person (yes, they'd sunk low enough to break in at night) and she'd run out of bullets.

Well, that was easily fixed; Riza reached into the backseat again and started reloading with the extra ammunition that was there. It looked like her stuff as well. "Are you driving straight down to the junkyard?" she asked as another thought occurred to her.

"Yeah, Riza; this isn't exactly a leisurely joyride," he said sarcastically.

"Make a detour," she told him.

"Sorry?"

"Didn't Ed tell you where he was staying when you met up with him yesterday?"

How much _did_ she know? _Everything?_ "Yeah, the Hamick, but that's hardly relevant..."

"Make a detour." He started to ask why, but Riza cut across him with her explanation. "Alphonse won't want to be left behind."

* * *

**Haha, look at me, so sick and out of it that I posted the chapter without an AN or even the next chapter preview! There are a lot of things I'd like to talk about this chapter, but my chest cold whispers things to me, like "Fuck ANs; take a nap!" Anyway, I don't own FMA, I appreciate your reviews and readership, and here's your preview: **

_"So, Mustang chose his girl over you, eh, Elric?"  
_

_"Roy Mustang has his own priorities. I'm here under the impression that my family will not be harmed if I… cooperate, is that correct?"_

_"Sure."  
_

_"Sound a little more convincing, why don't you?"_

_"Your brother and the Rockbell mechanics will be fine. I'm surprised you're not more concerned about yourself."_

_"My life isn't as important as theirs to me."_

_"Heavy words, coming from someone who was involved in the conspiracy that killed an innocent man and his young son in cold blood just to gain power!"_

_It was hard to argue with the gun in his face, but then Edward Elric never missed an opportunity to piss somebody off._


	39. Death March

**D= *dies* Three days without a chapter because no one could log in! Now I shall have to post three chapters tonight in order to get caught up. _And I have French homework!_ Damn, damn, damn! Fanfiction. net, I hate you with the burning passion of a thousand suns!! Good news is, I got about 10 Word pages of chapters written; breaking it into segments will be a pain though. Anyway, because you people have been so deprived of ENAT, here's the chapter without further ado-- and I don't own FMA! **

* * *

_Ten rows in, make a left, three rows across. _The frantic pounding of his heart threatened to drown out his thoughts. He was surprised had the two Havenites following him, escorting him really, couldn't hear his heartbeat, it was so loud, ridiculously loud, as if protesting its impending cessation of movement.

He passed two more of the Havenite guards but didn't look at him, and they fell into step with the other two. Fifty feet later, another pair of guards joined the procession. _This is my death march._

The towers of old machines; ovens, cars, refrigerators, the occasional toilet, provided unnecessary shade and hid the waning moon from his view. Every twenty feet there was another pair of guards who joined the silent parade. Every face was serious, and no one dared to speak. Ed began to feel like he was leading; he imagined them as soldiers marching two by two to confront the enemy, but then he realized that if he was the leader these soldiers were about to let loose a lot of friendly fire in his direction, and so he tried to banish that train of thought.

Every step was a nail in his coffin, and counterproductively, Ed's pace increased as he caught sight of the cluster of people at the end of the row. This was it.

He knew who the leader was immediately, because the man stepped forward from the group, and did what no one else there would have considered in a million years: He laughed.

"So, Mustang chose his girl over you, eh, Elric?" he teased.

Ed memorized the man's face: He was neither young nor particularly old, so that made it hard to guess his age; he was blond, like many Amestrians, so he wasn't a standout by any means; he had a sword and a gun both resting on his hips, so he certainly meant business. However, now that Ed thought of it, all of the men present had swords, or guns, or both.

"Roy Mustang has his own priorities. As do I. I'm here under the impression that my family will not be harmed if I… cooperate, is that correct?"

The man laughed again. "Sure." He didn't sound honest, though, and Ed frowned.

"Sound a little more convincing, why don't you?"

"Your brother and the Rockbell mechanics will be fine. I'm surprised you're not more concerned about yourself."

"My life isn't as important as theirs to me. As long as they're okay it doesn't matter about me."

"Heavy words, coming from someone who was involved in the conspiracy that killed an innocent man and his young son in cold blood just to gain power. Why don't you tell me how it really went down, Elric? If you do you might actually walk away from this junkyard."

"You're not going to believe it."

The leader of Haven walked forward and drew his gun. The hammer was already cocked back. "Try me," he said menacingly, looking down on Ed and holding the pistol at point-blank range.

"You know, you're really not that scary," Ed muttered, then, in a louder voice, he said the simplest version of the story possible: "King Bradley and his son Selim were both homunculi, artificially created humans, made by someone calling himself 'Father,' who was manipulating Amestris in order to use the entire country's inhabitants as sacrifices to make a Philosopher's Stone (that is, a stone that allows the user to defy the law of equivalent exchange in alchemy) of unprecedented power."

"Pardon?" The man—Ed wondered vaguely what his name was—laughed aloud at Ed's story. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"Told you you wouldn't believe me."

"Well, at least I get a good laugh before I end you," he responded. "I'll give you time to pray to God. Do you have any last words? Any more funny tall tales to tell me?"

"There's just one thing I want to say."

"Oh?"

"You're a coward."

The man chuckled and pressed the tip of the gun into Ed's forehead. It was cold, like the night air. "You sure talk big for a shrimp."

Ed clenched his teeth. "Yeah, you're a coward all right. 'Cause who else besides a coward would threaten a man's grandmother, his brother, his dog, his girl, just to get him to come to this junkyard in the middle of the night to die—and not only that, but as if to prove he's a coward, that same man brought about twenty goons to back him up against a _teenager_?"

"You asking to die quicker?"

"I'm going to die anyway; might as well point out how weak you are while I'm at it."

"Fine, have it your way, Fullmetal Alchemist." The man actually uncocked the gun and slipped it back into the holster. "I'll have you know I'm no weak opponent. I'm a former army officer and when I was a teenager, before I enlisted, I used to study swordfighting with a very excellent teacher." He drew the sword at his side and leveled it at Ed. "You think you, a shrimp of a kid, can beat me? Hit me with your best shot. And Fullmetal, remember, I've got twenty men around me who are just as capable of taking you on—I've made sure you won't walk away with this, even if it means I don't fight fair."

"Oh, you'll be fighting fair all right," Ed assured, transmuting his right arm into a blade. "In fact, I'd feel bad kicking your ass if you didn't have backup. I'm surprised that you forgot who you're dealing with, especially since you keep calling me by that name." He took a stance with a set face. "I am the Fullmetal Alchemist."

* * *

**Next chapter, "Wake Up Call"**

_"Haven told me that your brother was going to go meet with them, where I'm sure he'll be executed by their guys, and Haven also told me that they were going to kill Hawkeye at the same time as he went to his death, and I had to choose, and I—" Mustang stopped, seeming to choke on the expression on Al's face. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?! You don't get it!"_

_Al shook his head. "No, I... I understand."

* * *

_

**What do you think? If there's anybody that could turn an execution into a duel, it'd be Ed Elric, don't you think? The preview gives y'all a pretty good idea of what Riza meant at the end of last chapter... that is, if you hadn't already figured it out! **

**I know it seems like this story is coming to an end, but trust me, it's not! This plot arc will get wrapped up soon enough, but there'll be more--I haven't decided how long this fic's going to be, but since I'm getting anxious just thinking about it being finished, onward it shall continue!**

**Reviews, please!**


	40. Wake Up Call

**G'morning, people! I'm on my way to school and I thought I'd dump this chapter off on you before I leave. I don't own FMA; please review!**

* * *

What were the room numbers Ed had rattled off at the warehouse? 1572? And one other. Probably 1570 or 1574, the rooms on either side of 1572. But since he wasn't sure, as Mustang burst through the door at the proper level, he ran to 1572 and pounded on that door first, the one he _was_ sure about. "Fullmetal! Alphonse!"

Al opened the door a few seconds later and frowned in confusion. "General, what are you doing here at this hour?" Alphonse was still dressed in his day clothes and while he looked stressed and bafflingly skinny, he didn't look like he'd just woken up.

Great, so Mustang wasn't the only one who wasn't sleeping right; at least he wasn't alone. "Alphonse, where's your brother?" Mustang said urgently.

"In the other room," Al said in a 'this-is-obvious' tone of voice, jerking his thumb in the direction of room 1574. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain once I confirm something… Al, do you have the key to Ed's room? Or any way to get in?"

"Yeah, Brother gave me a copy of his and got a copy of mine; he didn't feel comfortable being the only one able to get in his room, since he was sure Haven had access."

"Good, get the key."

"Uhh." Al reached into his pocket and pulled it out. "I haven't removed it from my person, I was kinda scared." He handed it over and Mustang snatched it and immediately set to unlocking room 1574. Al stepped out of his room and stood a few feet back from Mustang to give him space. "General, please tell me why you're invading Ed's room at eleven-thirty at night."

"I don't think Ed's in here," Mustang said as he turned the key and ran in, flicking on the light switch. Just as he had suspected, Ed had already gone. Mustang cussed under his breath and turned around to face Al, who looked bewildered and more than a little concerned.

"Where would Brother have gone at this time of night? Why didn't he tell me? And General, how'd you know he wasn't here?"

"It's hard to explain! Haven told me that your brother was going to go meet with them, where I'm sure he'll be executed by their guys, and Haven also told me that they were going to kill Hawkeye at the same time as he went to his death, and I had to choose, and I—" He seemed to choke on the expression on Al's face. "Look, I had to make a decision! I knew Riza was already captured and they could kill her in a heartbeat, and I knew that Fullmetal had a better chance of being able to take care of himself long enough for me to get there, so I prioritized! So stop looking at me like that! C'mon, we have to go get your brother. I know where to find him." Mustang stepped around Al and went back toward the stairs.

"Wait!"

"_What?_ This better be more important than your brother's life!"

"Haven has a lot of supporters, right?"

"Yes, yes! How is this relevant?"

"Because we know Haven doesn't fight fair." Al crossed the hall and banged a fist against Winry's door. "Winry! Wake up!"

"I'm not sleeping," her voice came from inside, and Al heard the sound of her door being unlocked. When she opened it he saw that she, too, was in the clothes she'd been wearing that day.

"Ed's in big trouble and we need all the help we can get. I knew you'd never forgive me if we left without you," Al said in a rush.

"No, I wouldn't. Hey, you should knock on Grandma's door, too, Al."

Al obeyed, while Winry turned around and disappeared into the room for a second, then came back with a pair of heavy wrenches, one in either hand. Did she just cart those around everywhere or what?

"I'm ready," she said. "Let's go."

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**Next chapter...**

_"You idiots!" Erlich bellowed at the Havenites at Ed's back.  
_

_"Pay attention, you asshole! Don't make me kill a distracted opponent!" Ed made a move to stab Erlich, but his heart wasn't in it as long as Erlich was looking the other way._

_"This wasn't exactly in the job description!" one man bellowed back._

_"Hey, I can't hit a little girl!" another complained._

_"Too damn bad, 'cause this _little girl's_ going to hit you!"_


	41. Reinforcements

**There shall be another chapter later today when I get around to it. Technically this one is the one that would have been posted yesterday if I'd been able to get on, so that makes next chapter the one that should be getting posted today. I won't post these back to back, I wanna space them out at least a little, so next chapter will be posted later this evening.**

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The man grunted when Ed's metal left leg connected with his gut. It didn't take him long to recover; he slashed forward with his sword, but it was a weak shot; Ed deflected it easily. Ed then stepped forward, using his size to get into the man's space, but the man foresaw the move and jumped back.

"Erlich!" one of the Havenites standing on the sidelines shouted, pointing at something behind Ed. The man (apparently his name was Erlich) looked where the Havenite was pointing, then narrowed his eyes.

"Called in backup, Fullmetal? You'll pay for that! _Get them!_" The Havenites rushed forward as a group.

"Backup?" Ed repeated. "What are you talking about? I didn't tell anyone I was coming here tonight!" He parried another poorly aimed blow. "Keep your eyes on me, coward!" he growled, slashing forward while Erlich was watching whatever was behind Ed. There was a flash of light behind Ed and the shouts of bewildered men. Ed noticed at least two men sneak out of the row and sprint for the exit gates. What in the world was going on behind him?

"You idiots!" Erlich bellowed at them.

"Pay attention, you asshole! Don't make me kill a distracted opponent!" Ed made a move to stab Erlich, but his heart wasn't in it as long as Erlich was looking the other way.

"This wasn't exactly in the job description!" one man bellowed back.

"Hey, I can't hit a little girl!" another complained.

"Too damn bad, 'cause this _little girl_'s going to hit you!"

"Winry?" Ed called, turning despite himself. "Al, Mustang, Hawkeye, _Grandma? _What are you guys doing here?"

"Ow!" yelled the man who'd spoken a minute ago as he got clocked with Winry's wrench. There was another flash of light and roar of flames as Mustang, who was holding his ground against six or seven men, forced them to stumble back or get incinerated. Meanwhile, Riza was exchanging volleys of fire with the Havenites who were armed, Al was fighting two men at once with a short sword which bore signs that it had recently transmuted (easy enough to do when you were in the middle of a junkyard), Winry was standing over one man who had been knocked out cold while wielding a pair of wrenches and matching a second man's sword blow for blow, and Pinako was armed with what appeared to be a hammer and was keeping back three men who looked at each other as if to ask, "What is this old lady even doing here?" –of course, that was their last thought before Pinako slammed her hammer into the side of their heads and sent them sprawling spectacularly to the ground.

"Follow your own advice!" Erlich yelled at Ed and swung his sword at Ed's undefended abdomen. Ed jumped back in the nick of time, and Erlich's sword sliced through cloth.

"Ha, ha! Too slow!" Ed celebrated, and returned the blow with a well-aimed slash to his neck, which Erlich defended by throwing up his forearms. His sword arm started bleeding and he jumped back, growled angrily, then charged forward with an obvious shot that Ed defended by shoving the sword aside with his automail leg, knocking Erlich's feet out from under him in the same swing. As Erlich skidded to the ground, Ed used the brief break to turn around and check on the fighters behind him. Most of the men who had been exchanging fire with Riza had run out of ammunition and headed for the hills, while at least three of the men fighting Mustang had been singed or burned and had also retreated. Al had injured one man, who was clutching his bleeding left arm and running for cover. Winry had knocked out another guy and was now fighting one of the more experienced Havenites; sword and wrench were meeting so violently that it was sending up sparks. Pinako was going through Havenites like there was no tomorrow; and the result was that out of the twenty or so men who had come with Erlich originally, less than half remained.

"You transmuted the automail!" Winry accused when Ed caught her eye. She only looked at him for a second before she had to pay attention to the Havenite in front of her.

"Sorry!" he called back. "I kinda do this a lot though!" Erlich was getting up now; Ed turned around and took his stance.

"I'll kill you later!" Winry informed him, grunting as she shoved away a solid blow.

"That would be counterproductive!" Mustang shouted at her.

"Sucks for you!"

"Less talky, more fighty!" Ed shouted at them both. He didn't like them distracting each other; it made him nervous.

"Brother!" Alphonse shouted, noticing what Ed didn't: Erlich's sword coming straight for his gut.

Ed cussed, his right arm came down reflexively, and he tried to parry the blow, but he was too late. His shirt was already torn from earlier; Erlich could see exactly what he was aiming for, and the sword sliced exactly where it was meant to. Screaming in pain and rage, Ed capitalized on the fact that Erlich was bent and angled forward (aiming low, but Ed tried not to think about that) and after he'd used his right arm to shove the sword away before it got too deep, Ed's automail arm came down and cracked on the crown of Erlich's head. Erlich crumpled and Ed bent forward, clutching his stomach.

"Edward!"

"Ed!"

"Brother!"

_"__Ed!"

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_

**No chapter preview this time, I want to maintain the suspense. I don't own FMA; I appreciate your reviews!**_  
_


	42. Don't Move

**Here's the next installment of ENAT! I'll have my readers know that I'm on Chapter 52 already--God, I hate having chapters queued up. It makes me freakin' antsy. This plot arc is wrapping itself up, as you can see, but don't worry! As evidenced by the fact that I'm already on Chapter 52, there will be lots more story to come!**

**Look forward to Chapter 46, everyone! You will almost definitely squee when you read it--that is, if you're anything like me when it comes to EdWin. And then, Chapter 51 will probably make you want to cry. Again, you kinda have to have my kind of emotional instability in order to fully appreciate it. **

**Anyway, enough bragging about forthcoming chapters! This chapter is brag-worthy in its own right! So without further preamble, here's Chapter 42 of ENAT!

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**

"Ed!" Winry cheated by kneeing her opponent in the crotch, then sprinted to Ed's side. "Ed! Oh my God! Move your hand, let me see!"

"It's fine, he didn't get that deep! I've had worse—"

"Move your hand, now!" she ordered.

He didn't want to let her see, but she was all but forcing him (and he had a feeling she'd do that next), so Ed moved his hand. His jaw was clenched so tightly his teeth actually hurt—he didn't know if he was angrier that he'd been injured because Winry and Mustang had distracted him, or because Winry was even here in the first place.

Al was trying desperately to get away from his opponent, but wasn't having as easy a time as Winry had. "That's—my—_brother!" _he grunted, shoving the man's sword away with both hands. He was sweating and angry, but it didn't look like his size was slowing him down any: _Probably the adrenaline,_ Ed thought. "Just let me go!" Al said, both ordering and begging at the same time. Their sword and hand-to-hand skills were pretty evenly matched, and Al had the advantage of being smaller. Al's other advantage: He would kill for his older brother. His slashes with the sword got quicker and more focused on vital spots, and he peppered on more kicks and punches to throw the Havenite off kilter.

Winry made a hissing noise by sucking in a deep breath through her teeth. "Wow, this looks like it hurts," she said sympathetically, and then without warning she went into doctor mode. "Okay, thankfully it was his sword and not any kind of debris or anything; it's clean. You were right, it didn't get deep but, we have to staunch the bleeding and get you to a hospital where they can one, check to see if he didn't get anything vital and two, stitch it up. Ed's what's this other scar? Sorry, random irrelevant question; I'll ask later."

"Good 'cause you're going to get mad at me for the answer look can we back up a few feet I don't know how long the guy's gonna be out for and I don't want you close when he wakes up," Ed said, all in one breath.

Winry glanced over at Erlich, then nodded jerkily. She knew you weren't supposed to move someone with a stab wound, but she also knew that she'd have a lot bigger problem if she didn't move him—he was right on that count. "Uh, okay." She reached around Ed's torso to help him move.

"Oh, stop, you act like I'm mortally wounded."

"Ed, you just got _stabbed!"_ she protested, refusing to let him stand on his own. "You can't possibly be trying to tell me it doesn't hurt!"

It did. "I'm just saying it's not like—" He cut off suddenly with a grunt of pain when they moved too quickly. Winry gave him a knowing look. "I've had worse," he said lamely.

"Yeah. Okay. Ummm…" Winry tried to gather her scattered thoughts. They were now a few feet away from Erlich instead of right next to him, but they hadn't gotten far, and she was now the one applying pressure to his side. "Do you feel cold? Dizzy? Thirsty? Nauseous?"

"It's the middle of the night, so, yeah, I'm a little cold. Mostly all I feel right now is pissed off. Look, Win, I'm not going into shock."

She forced herself to breathe. "Okay, good then. Here, I'm going to pull this shirt off of you; it's torn anyway and I need some cloth to hold over this wound."

"Fine." He tried to shift and make it easier for Winry to remove it; but she was pinning him down with her hand over the wound.

"Don't move," she ordered.

"Sorry," he said halfheartedly, and watched her as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, apparently trying to get rid of the sweat that was beading on her skin. The fact that her hand smeared his blood on her face made it entirely counterproductive, but her face said she didn't care.

He was bleeding on the ring he'd given her. How ironic.

She was crying a little, as well. She cried too much.

Ed wanted her to stop crying.

Alchemy had worked last time, hadn't it? Could he use alchemy to close the wound? He was certain that if he stopped bleeding, she would stop crying.

No, wait… that was a bad idea. He'd used his life energy last time; that had been, in hindsight, a poor decision. He couldn't try it again, too dangerous. When he did stupid things, it always made Winry cry more.

Was there any other way to make her stop?

What if he just _asked_ her?

"Winry, stop crying." But it didn't sound right to his ears.

"What? Ed, I can't tell what you're saying. Are you passing out on me?"

No, he wanted to say, but he was distracted by a sensation not unlike acute vertigo. Ugh. Make it stop.

"Brother?" Al was now leaning over him as well. When did Al get there? And how had his head ended up in Winry's lap?

"I _knew_ he was going into shock," Winry muttered. She knew how to treat that, too. Thank God for her parents' medical books, read long ago on rainy Sundays. She seized Al's hand and brought it over to the bundled wad of what had once been Ed's shirt and what was now serving in the place of something that might have been more appropriate, like a clean towel. "Hold this," she told Al, "Keep the pressure." He nodded, but looked confused when Winry started shrugging off her black jacket and draped it over Ed. Of course, it wasn't nearly enough to keep him warm. She needed something better.

Winry looked down at Ed and spoke in a loud, direct voice, as if speaking to a toddler: "Edward. Where is your cloak?"

"Um." He tried to think. He'd dropped it somewhere. Why? He knew he'd been fighting… Ah, he remembered: the cloak was extra cloth that had gotten in the way, so he'd discarded it. "On the ground."

"Oh, real helpful, isn't he," Winry said sarcastically to Al as she again took up the task of applying pressure to Ed's injury. "Can you…?"

"Ah, I see it. He dropped it over there," said Al, pointing. He stood up to go get it.

"Good, I can't move right now; I have to keep up this pressure," said Winry, and then she looked down at Ed. "You're drifting a little, Ed, can you stay with me a little longer?"

"Winry."

"That's good. Talk to me, Ed. Stay here."

"Erlich."

"Sorry?"

"Erlich!" He snapped out of his stupor—Erlich! The man was standing unsteadily a few feet away. He had his sword in one hand and his head (likely aching after Ed's blow) in the other. Winry was trying to simultaneously hold the cloth on Ed's side and drag him back away from Erlich as he raised his sword. She looked around the ground near them: Where were her wrenches?

"Winry, Ed, get out of the way!" Mustang shouted. He was twenty feet away and the men he was fighting had fled, nursing their burns, and he had his hand extended toward Ed, Winry, and Erlich as if he wanted to do something. But Ed and Winry and Erlich were too close. He couldn't make a move without risking their safety, too.

"Move!" Ed ordered, bodily shoving Winry away. She fell back awkwardly behind him and hit her head jarringly against the concrete, then watched in horror as Ed sat up, holding his stomach with his left hand…

There was no moment of hesitation, no beat of silence to herald the moment of truth, it just happened: Erlich's sword came down, Ed's automail arm came up.

Unexpectedly, a shot rang out, preambled only with an enraged shout: "COWARD!"

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**Of course, I'm sure you all are certain of who shouted in the last line! If you aren't I won't spoil it for you, but it's pretty obvious.**

**There's one line that almost didn't make the cut, but it was so good that I actually changed the chapter's interior just to include it: "Ed was bleeding on the ring he'd given her... How ironic."** **Nice line, right? Totally worth revamping the chapter for.**

**

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**Next chapter, "Cause of Death: Misinformation"  
**

Bang._ The sound seemed to echo off the moon itself._

Bang._ Praise the convenience of semiautomatics; the second shot was instantaneous._

Bang._ It wasn't as if the first two had missed; Erlich just _deserved_ three bullets._


	43. Cause of Death: Misinformation

**I don't own FMA. Please review! I keep seeing new faces add me to alerts, but no new faces have been sending me reviews! D=**

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Nobody noticed Riza stand and draw, but it was hard to miss her hoarse, but furious, bellow: "COWARD!"

_Bang. _The sound seemed to echo off the moon itself.

_Bang._ Praise the convenience of semiautomatics; the second shot was instantaneous.

_Bang._ The third was unnecessary—Riza didn't miss from that far away, and she'd gotten his heart on the first try, but Erlich just _deserved_ three bullets.

He went down, for good this time.

Riza lowered her gun and her head drooped sadly. She didn't like killing when she was pissed off; it always made her second-guess herself. It felt less like a necessary kill and more like a crime of passion. Had Erlich deserved it? He'd only done all this because of the government's coverup. Since when was receiving bad information a death sentence?

"He just tried to execute a wounded young boy and the little girl trying to save him. He had you kidnapped and suffocated in smoke for three days. He gassed an old woman, a young girl, and their dog in their own home. Riza, it's not as if you just shot an Ishbalan." Roy's hand on her shoulder… reassurance.

"Yeah…" She sighed. "I know."

"It sucks all the same," he commented.

"Yeah."

Ed stared as Erlich collapsed in front of him, but recovered quickly and scooted back, freeing his legs from Erlich's weight before too much blood soaked his pants—as if it made a difference considering the fact that his clothes were already soaked with his _own_ blood. The source made a difference, he figured.

"Brother!" Al ran over, clutching Ed's cloak, and crouched at Ed's left side. "That was scary!" he panted as he flung the cloak over Ed's shoulders atop Winry's jacket. "Are you okay?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How long it takes for me to stop bleeding my guts out."

"Right." _If Ed's joking, he must think he's going to be fine,_ Al reasoned. Edward would never joke like that if he thought it was serious. "Has the bleeding slowed any?" Al asked.

"Not sure. I don't dare move my shirt to check."

"Well, since it's getting soaked anyway, let's move it, and I'll use alchemy to separate the blood from the cloth, kinda like I'm cleaning it."

"And at the same time, we can see how much it's still bleeding," Ed understood.

"Wait," said Winry, who despite being less than a foot away during the conversation had been so shell-shocked by watching Erlich die that she hadn't found her voice until that moment. "Don't do anything yet." She got onto her knees and scooted over to Ed's side next to Al.

"Why?" Al asked.

"Just have a little faith!" she snapped. "Are you medically trained? No? Then don't attack my judgement!"

Al looked at her with a hurt and surprised expression. "Sorry, Win, I didn't mean…"

Winry looked surprised at herself. "Oh my God, that was weird. I didn't mean that, Al—I guess I'm just going a little crazy after… Anyway, I'm really sorry, Al."

"I understand," he responded.

Giving him a little nod, Winry turned around and gave her attention to her grandmother. She was about to call her over, but Pinako was already on her way. "Grandma, I'll need your help."

"I'll take a look at it," Pinako said, and as she reached the trio Al got up and moved to Ed's other side so he wouldn't be in the way. Winry scooted over as well.

"Alright, Edward, you can let go of the shirt now," she told him, and he moved his left arm away. Pinako moved the cloth then, and they all saw that the bleeding had pretty much stopped. Since her hands weren't sterile there wasn't much Pinako could do but look at the moment, but Al had the insight to turn around to the mountain of junk at their backs and transmute some long metal instrument that Ed didn't even want to lookat, let alone thinking about them using that near or _on_ him.

"Thanks for trying to help, Al, but that's not sterile," Winry said gently.

"Oh, no? I disagree, Winry. Where could any germs have come from? You don't think I would transmute the germs along with the metal? That would just be stupid."

"Clever," she complimented after a moment's consideration, while Pinako simply took the instrument and laid into Edward's wound, causing him to let out a stream of choice cusswords.

"What do you think, Grandma?" Winry asked as she peered over Pinako's shoulder. Winry hadn't seen anything that looked too badly damaged, and Ed had moved back at the same time Erlich had thrust forward so the wound really wasn't deep at all.

"I think Ed got real lucky," Pinako replied. "I'm a little out of practice with this part of the human anatomy; I'd feel more comfortable saying this if he'd been hit in one of his limbs, but it seems to me that the sword missed pretty much everything vital."

"That's good news," said Al.

"That's great news!" said Winry. "Now I won't feel scared to ask you for another favor with your alchemy, Al!"

"What favor is that?" Al asked, slightly suspicious.

"Don't look at me like that, I just want you to use the metal like you did a minute ago, and use Ed's shirt here which is pretty much ruined anyway, to make a suture needle and thread for me to use."

"Is it such a good idea to do that in a junkyard in the middle of the night?" Ed asked.

"Probably not, but Central doctors are notorious for not caring how much a patient suffers as long as the job gets done. Or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, overmedicating patients so much that people go straight from the hospital to drug rehab."

"Sounds just like you," Ed joked, "The first one, anyway."

"Shut up or I'll drag you to the hospital by your hair."

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**Next chapter's kind of filler-y, but it sets up for another interesting conversation later on! Also, it's pretty amusing; here's the preview:**

_"I know you'd really like to go in there and see Mr. Elric, but I can't let just _anyone_ waltz into the rooms in the middle of the night."_

_"You don't understand, I'm not '_just anyone,_'" Winry protested. She reached up and wiped at her forehead, where the feel of drying blood was becoming uncomfortable. The nurse noticed the ring on Winry's hand then, and came to the incorrect conclusion._

_"Well, you certainly don't _look_ old enough to be married," said the nurse in surprise, "but spouses _are_ exempt from the rule of visiting hours!" She laughed lightly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"_


	44. Visiting Hours

**As I mentioned last chapter, this one is painfully filler. You'll like next chapter though. And on Sunday there'll be two chapters, because Chapter 47 ( think, I'd have to check back and make sure my numbers are right to be certain) is a nonessential filler that I don't want to post on its lonesome. And, I mentioned it last chapter but it bears repeating: Chapter 46 is going to make you**_** squee!**_** I'm so excited to see what people have to say after reading it! Unfortunately, almost immediately after getting out of the hospital Ed gets himself into a life-threatening situation related to the previous life-threatening situation, but that gets solved fairly quickly, and there's some pretty heavy (not related to the canon characters, no worries!) angst happening in the early fifties. I won't say anything more that that unless you **_**really**_** beg. **

**You know what I like? Reviewers who ask questions. I would like nothing more than for someone to point things out to me such as how the chapter where Winry and Pinako stopped answering the phone included Ed putting 50 cenz into the payphone, when I really meant 5 (assuming Amestrian cenz are equal to Japanese yen, Ed would have been putting $5 into a pay phone if he'd really dropped in 50 cenz! I of course meant 5 cenz, or roughly $.45. I was the one to notice that mistake, not any reader. Another mistake I noticed but haven't changed yet is the fact that I think Den might have been referred to mistakenly as a male, but Den is a female.) I would love it if someone found a mistake or confusing part and called me out on it! Or just asked me plot questions in general. I love concrit from readers! Of course, the occasional 'this is great, keep going' is nice motivation-wise, but reviews with more substance are infinitely more helpful to me. **

**Hey, can anyone tell me what Winry's father's name was? I know her mother's name was Sara, but I searched all over and couldn't find a single part in the anime or manga which refers to Winry's dad by name! I do know that he was Pinako's son (it was weird in that one chapter about Ishbal, where Sara said something like, 'The Rockbell women are known for their guts and daring!' and I thought, 'But you're not a Rockbell woman!!') xD, went off on a tangent there! Anyway, this comes up briefly later; does anyone know his name? **

**At 4:30 on , after this chapter had been released the first time, I went back to repair a couple typos I'd missed in writing the AN, and by not paying attention when I reuploaded the chapter, I accidentally replaced this chapter with the partially-written Chapter 55. It was only up for a minute or two while I hurriedly corrected it, but if you happened to be reading in that little window, I'm sorry for spoiling it! It won't makes sense until much later anyway, so there's not much problem there.

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"Are you freakin' kidding me? I'm the one who brought him here in the first place, how can you come around and tell me I can't come in?"

"It's not a matter of who you are, dear, it's just that we have to keep him isolated to lower the risk of infection… but mostly because it's not visiting hours right now." The nurse was unsuccessfully trying to reason with the extremely agitated blonde before her.

"I'll scrub down, then! Please, you have to let me see him…" Winry stared past the nurse's shoulder, through the little window in the door, to where Ed was sleeping.

"Honey, do you realize you're a total mess?" the nurse asked gently. "And, I think you might be bleeding…"

"Yeah, I know I'm a mess, but _he_ wouldn't care! And the blood's not mine, it's his."

"You should get yourself looked at by a doctor because I think that's a fresh cut, and if you're okay, you need to go home, take a shower, get some sleep… then come back here during visiting hours tomorrow."

"How about I meet you halfway: I clean up so I don't look like I just tended to a stab wound, I buy a cup of coffee to keep awake, and I meet you back here in ten minutes to continue this conversation."

"Miss… uh, Winry," (Winry hadn't given her last name), "I know you'd really like to go in there and see Mr. Elric, but I can't let just anyone waltz into the rooms in the middle of the night."

"You don't understand, I'm not 'just anyone,'" Winry protested. She reached up and wiped at her forehead, where the feel of drying blood was becoming uncomfortable. The nurse noticed the ring on Winry's hand then, and came to the incorrect conclusion.

"Well, you certainly don't _look_ old enough to be married," said the nurse in surprise, "but spouses _are_ exempt from the rule of visiting hours!" She laughed lightly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Oh, no, I'm…" Winry was bewildered, but she caught on that this might be her chance to get allowed in, finally! _Play it up, Winry_, she instructed herself. _Don't think too hard about it._ "Don't say that to my husband!" she said to the nurse, laughing as well. "He doesn't like cracks about how short he is! Actually we're not that young at all—Ed's in the military, and I'm an accomplished automail mechanic! If you search through Ed's personal effects I'm sure you'll find his State Alchemist's pocket watch; that should be proof enough that he is what I say he is. And as for me, well, I made the automail he's wearing right now. I could take it apart and put it back together in less than ten minutes, and since you went to nursing school and had at the very least a short lesson in class about automail, you should know that only the designer could possibly do it that quickly. In fact, my grandmother was the one who originally gave him that automail, and I assisted in the surgery—I was only eleven!"

The nurse (her name was Hannah) nodded. "I believe you. However, there is still the matter of your appearance…"

"Yes, I know, I'm a pretty big mess. I'll clean up pretty quickly now that I know I'll be allowed in to see him."

"Good, then that's all settled," Hannah said firmly. "Go to the nurse's lounge and ask around for Sylvia, my sister, and tell her I sent you. She'll rustle up some spare scrubs for you to wear, since your clothes are such a mess. You oughta get them professionally cleaned as soon as possible, I know how stubborn bloodstains can be." She waved and smiled as Winry walked away.

_Ed's going to kill me,_ Winry thought as she walked away.

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**Next chapter, "His New Year's Memory,"**

"_You gonna give Winry a hug before she goes home for ni-night?" Trisha asked her eldest son while Sara helped a yawning Winry into her coat._

"_Uh-huh," Ed said, because it wasn't really a question, and he wanted to get this over with and go to bed._

_Trisha walked Ed over to the door where Winry was standing—slouching really—and extended his arms, and the two children hugged briefly. Winry yawned, then Ed did, earning them both a chorus of awws from the grinning young parents—Hohenheim excluded._


	45. His New Year's Memory

**Fun fact: Firefox gives me 'Hohenzollern' as a spelling suggestion for Hohenheim. As I am taking AP Euro and I actually know who the Hohenzollerns are, I find this endlessly amusing.**

**A quick note about this chapter: Remember, if nothing else, the little tug-of-war that Ed and Winry have. It comes up again in later chapters, and if you forget about it, the joke will be lost on you.  
**

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This is probably a dream, Ed thought as he watched the scene in front of him. There were many reasons for that assumption. First, the fact that he was watching his three-year-old self and everyone in the room was of corresponding age. Second, neither of his parents were dead.

"Come on, Ed, don't you wanna dance?" his mother asked him. Yes, he wanted to play with the family, but he certainly didn't want to embarrass himself, either.

"Don't be a party pooper, Ed," Winry's mom laughed.

"I'll _make _him dance, Daddy," said Winry, and she squirmed out of her father's arms and ran to Ed with a determined expression on her face. Seizing his wrist, she tried to pull him into the center of the room, but he planted his feet and they had a little tug-of-war which resulted in Ed losing his balance and falling on top of her. Both children toppled to the floor, and Winry screwed up her face like she was going to cry, while Ed rolled off of her and gave her an I-told-you-so look.

All the adults laughed, as did Ed—the real him, not the three-year-old apparition of himself. Yes, he remembered this now, if vaguely; it was New Years' Eve, and the Elrics had invited the Rockbells over to celebrate.

Winry got up and ran to Sara Rockbell for comfort, but the sniffles only lasted a minute—she wasn't injured, except for maybe her pride. She passed Ed a glare from her mother's arms.

Trisha knelt beside Ed, who hadn't bothered to get up off of the floor, and said, "Ed, you're not going to have any fun at all if you pout all night." Then she scooped him up and brought him into the middle of the room, where the children (and the adults who'd let themselves have a little alcohol) were playing freeze-dance. Ed's dad was sitting beside the radio and controlling the music.

Once Ed had been forcibly brought out of his safe place by his mother, he loosened up and giggled as she twirled him around in all sorts of silly and dramatic dance moves. Presently Winry and Ed had the same idea, which was to insist on being put down by their respective mothers so they could play the game properly.

Little Al didn't seem to understand the game completely; every time Hohenheim stopped the music, Winry, Ed, and the adults stopped dancing, but Al didn't freeze right away.

"Freeze, Al," everyone reminded the two-year-old. The adults were swapping is-he-cute-or-what smiles and Winry was giggling, but Ed didn't understand what was so funny about his little brother not playing the game right, so he didn't laugh.

Al's golden eyes took in all the 'frozen' adults and children around him, then he got the message, laughed, and copied them. Hohenheim chuckled at his youngest son, waited a few more seconds (everyone tottered and laughed at themselves) before turning the music back on so the dancing resumed.

Ed watched the memory from the corner of the room, smiling vaguely.

It was after midnight, Trisha had already put Al to bed hours ago, and Winry and Ed were barely awake themselves. The New Year had come, but Ed didn't understand why there was a big celebration for it since the New Year seemed no different from the old year, so what was the point in staying up and having a party about it?

It was time for Winry to go home and time for Ed to go to bed—Ed could tell because the adults were saying things like, "Okay, let's wrap it up, guys," and that always meant 'bedtime.'

"You gonna give Winry a hug before she goes home for ni-night?" Trisha asked her eldest son while Sara helped a yawning Winry into her coat.

"Uh-huh," Ed said, because it wasn't really a question, and he wanted to get this over with and go to bed.

Trisha walked Ed over to the door where Winry was standing—slouching really—and extended his arms, and the two children hugged briefly. Winry yawned, then Ed did, earning them both a chorus of _aww_s from the grinning young parents—Hohenheim excluded.

Ed let go of Winry, his job of being 'a good little host' completed, and Trisha held out her hand to walk him up to bed, and Ed turned around, ready to take it, but without warning, the dream changed.

Everything went black for a moment. Then, the voices were audible first.

"No… don't shoot… I beg you, don't…!"

"Hurry, drop the gun and get out of here! Winry! Hurry!"

"If you won't shoot, then leave this battlefield. You're in my way!"

The emotion and the adrenaline, the heat of the moment, sunk in gradually at first, then overflowed all that once. The sensation of movement—he was in the air. A shortcut to his destination, if you will.

"Don't shoot!" If she fired that gun she was dead!

His vision came back, finally, though he'd long since realized where he was. In the place where a moment ago his mother's hand had reached for him, now Scar's hand did the same.

His mind was completely blank with the catharsis that was his desperation and terror, but he did eventually to realize that Scar had hesitated. More importantly, he had his hand on the gun now, and there was no longer the threat of Winry firing and earning herself a death sentence from Scar.

There wasn't really time to do much else—one moment Al was standing ten feet away on the other side of the alley, and the next moment Al was aiming a kick at Scar's head and the fight continued as if the world had not just almost ended.

"You idiot, brother! What are you doing? Trying to get the both of you killed? Hurry up and take Winry to somewhere safe!"

"Okay… ah…" Ed couldn't really think of anything to say to that. He watched Al run after Scar, then turned around. "Winry, let go of the gun." Her fingers were locked, so he gently started prying them loose.

"I couldn't shoot… even though he's my enemy."

Ed glanced up at her face; the tears in her eyes had spilled over. He closed his eyes. "Please don't shoot. I beg you."

"Let go of my hand, Edward." Her tone was cooler now, no longer shaking with emotion. What was this? This wasn't how his memory went! And something he couldn't explain told him to be worried. Dream senses, he supposed.

Winry yanked her hand—and the gun—out of his grip and glared. "What gives you the right to tell me what to do? You and Al are nothing but awful to me! You keep secrets; you go off to dangerous places without telling me! Yet somehow you expect me to faithfully follow at your heels, do whatever you say, and wait patiently at home for you to rush in and save the day! What am I to you, Ed? Really!" She raised the gun and held it to her temple.

"Wait, wait, what are you doing?" Ed asked, his eyes popping open in shock and horror. "Winry, listen—I'm sorry! Please don't do this!"

"I love you," she whispered. "Always have." Then she pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Aww, you guys probably thought that was a _good_ dream at first, right? And then I turned it into a nightmare. **

**Actually the inspiration for the first dream/memory came from personal experience--see, I'm 13 years older than my little twin sisters Sam and Steph, and I'm 12 years older than my other sister Sofia, so they're 4 and 3 years old. Well, as I was thinkign about the plan for this chapter, they were playing freeze-dance with our mom to Abba's "Lay All Your Love On Me" and then Katy Perry's "Hot 'N' Cold," and I was watching them and I thought, 'Now, that's a memory that anyone and everyone can relate to.' So it was the perfect choice for a childhood memory for Ed, Al, and Winry. I hope it brought you readers back!**

**The last line of this chapter is a classic example of Freudian unconscious desires manifesting themselves in dreams, in my professional (NOT) opinion. I'll let you guys mull over what you think it means, eh? If there's really anything to mull over, it IS pretty direct...  
**

**There's no preview for this upcoming chapter, because 've already revealed that it's squee-worthy so I have to keep you in suspense at least a little. Suffice to say, Ed wakes up, and of course we already know Winry's in there because she got in after visiting hours last chapter. Recall that the nurse thought she was bleeding; this comes up next chapter.) **

**Sorry about referring to everyone but Winry's dad by name. I couldn't figure out who it is. If anyone ever finds it, tell me in a review and I'll promptly change this chapter.**

**I don't own FMA! Please review. **


	46. Stoned?

**I don't own FMA. This is the chapter I swore you guys were going to _squee_ for, so without any more introduction than that--voila!**

* * *

"WINRY, NO!"

Just like that, he was in a new scene. This one was a hospital room, and because of the sharp pain in his side as he sat up too quickly, Ed gathered that he was the patient.

"Ed, are you really awake this time?" she whispered. "That must have been some dream you were having. Lie back down; you'll open your stitches."

It was dark, and Ed had to wait for his eyes to adjust, but he already knew it was Winry sitting up on the short couch on the opposite side of the room. There was a metal folding chair beside his bed as well. He wondered who had been sitting in it, but not for long, because Winry got up and settled into the chair. Her body looked misshapen in the dark—she had a thin blanket draped over her shoulders.

For a minute Ed wondered if he was really awake, and he almost decided he wasn't because the sharp (but thankfully, fleeting—as long as he was still, it was as if he couldn't feel it at all) pain of his injury was too great to be a dream, but when his eyes fully adjusted to the dark and he got a good look at her face, he realized he was still dreaming: The tipoff was the bandage wrapped around Winry's head at the same latitude where he'd watched her shoot herself just seconds before.

"You're not dead," he observed.

"Why, it would seem I'm not," she said dryly.

"You're not funny." Ed frowned; gravity seemed to be swinging rather wildly; he grabbed onto the low rail at his side and held on so he wouldn't fall up.

"Sorry." She paused. "How are you feeling?"

"Drugged, my side hurts, and I just watched you die, so… pretty lousy."

"Watched me die?" she repeated. "Is that what you were dreaming about? You looked real upset; your assorted mumblings were keeping me awake. Also, when you woke up and screamed at me it was kind of a dead giveaway that something was up."

"Sorry about that." He reached across with his flesh hand and cupped her face. "That's the second time I've watched you die in two days, Win. And I think I'm still dreaming."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure? Me, I was pretty sure I was awake." There was a blushing smile in her voice.

Ed put his finger lightly on her right temple and tapped once. She flinched. "Ouch, don't poke there; it still hurts!"

Ed smiled faintly. "I know. That's where I just watched you shoot yourself."

"Shoot mysel—_what?_ Ed, that's ridiculous, I would never—!"

"I know. That's how come I know this is a dream."

"Actually, Ed, it's not a gunshot wound under my bandages, it's—what are you doing?"

Ed had leaned forward, supporting most of his weight on his right arm, and was now decidedly in Winry's personal space.

"Edward…" she said nervously, "what are you doing?" His breath was warmer on her lips than his hand was warm on her cheek. "Seriously, you're making me nervous."

"I'm taking advantage of the situation."

"Ed, I think you're pretty stoned on painkillers. You're not making sense. Come on, seriously. Lie back down or I'll push you."

"I will. I'll lie down in a minute, it's just…" He broke off, as if not sure where he was going with that sentence, then was silent for a few seconds. When Winry started to back away, his hand came around the side of her head and nestled in her hair, holding her in place for the moment.

"Ed. What are you doing?"

"I told you, I'm taking advantage of the situation: We're alone, this dream is incredibly realistic, and there's something I've wanted to do for a long time…"

* * *

_"I don't want to tell you," Winry admitted. "You're going to laugh at me."_

_"Good, then that means it's funny, and there's no reason to be ashamed. Tell me."_

_"Well," she said, "It turns out spouses are exempt from the limitations of hospital visiting hours." She held up her hand, gesturing to the ring. "The nurse I was talking to made an assumption, and I... played it up."_

_Just as she'd predicted, Al started laughing. "Oh... my... God...! That's... hil... ar... i... ous!"_

_"Thanks," she said dryly. **  
**_

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**Omigod, omigod, omigod! *dies after rereading own chapter* Okay, show of hands, who exploded in happiness by the end of this chapter? *Raises hand***

**PLEASE REVIEW! I EXPECT SEVEN ZILLION REVIEWS AFTER THIS CHAPTER! _AND I'LL BE COUNTING!_**


	47. Bonus: Not How She Imagined It

**I think I downplayed the awkwardness and hesitance of the kiss last chapter! The goal I had in mind when I was writing was playing up the auditory and tactile senses; in other words, the focus on touch and the lack of much visual information to supplement the dialogue. However, in playing up tactile and auditory information, and trying to maintain the pace of the passage, I believe the emotion got played down. Especially considering that Ed thought he was asleep, so he wasn't as hesitant as he would have been if he'd actually been awake. And as you may have noticed, the passage is in third person, but 'tilted' from Ed's perspective. **

**The awkwardness of their positions in relation to each other was subtle, so l et me try to spell it out: Ed's sitting up on the hospital bed, Winry's in a chair on his right; she's sitting on her knees so she can be eye-to-eye with him because the bed's a decent bit higher. Leaning on his right arm for support, because that one is guaranteed not to fail him, Ed reaches across with his left hand (btw, twisting this way hurts, though he doesn't show it and the painkillers he's on minimized the sting) and cups her face, Winry's right cheek. He taps her temple where she's bandaged; that hurts; she flinches away. Underneath her, the metal chair totters; one leg is shorter than the other; Ed doesn't notice. He leans forward and forgets about the painful pulling, twisting sensation on his left side, then does the thing he would never have had the guts to do if he'd known he was really awake. **

**I hope that more direct summary of the movement clears up the issue of what was happening. However—it is a disservice to leave things as is! Winry didn't get to tell her side of the story! So the following is a bonus chapter, giving you more detail into what happened immediately after the kiss, as well as a good chunk of what's going through Winry's head. **

**And one last note: I get this a lot from men; they always want to know whether girls overthink everything as much as the media says we do! Or else the guys already think we do. Well, it took 500 words to describe Winry's thoughts in the space of a few minutes while she was one, sleepy, and two, reeling in surprise. Multiply this amount of words by four to compare to your average female's thoughts while she's clear-headed, then you can decide for yourself whether women think too much!

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**

Winry watched Edward as he laid back down on the uncomfortable-looking hospital pillow and drifted back to sleep with a small smile gracing his features. Her face was so warm from blushing she was certain she'd never cool down as long as she lived, and while her thoughts were on the topic of longevity, she knew she was going to be embarrassed when, 30 years from now, she told her children the story of how her first kiss had been in a hospital at 3 a.m. with someone who had been almost completely stoned on painkillers. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if those kids would be _his._

Okay, yeah, maybe she was a little overexcited after _that. _In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if Ed didn't even remember this in the morning! The fact that he'd fallen asleep almost immediately was a dead giveaway, though he'd been deceivingly lucid.

She wondered about the nightmare he'd told her about. Had she really shot herself in his dream? Under what circumstances? That didn't sound like her at all! Winry's real concern, though she barely dared think it, was that if he hadn't thought he was still asleep, he wouldn't have told her that his nightmares involved her death. It was unsettling to think about… how often did Edward have dreams like that, that he'd never told anyone about?

It was kind of funny that he'd mistaken the bandage on her head for the place where she'd shot herself! The nurse she'd argued with earlier that night had been right about the fact that she was bleeding—she'd felt no pain at all, and she hadn't noticed the Havenite she'd been fighting get that hit in, so she was extremely surprised! It wasn't small, either; she'd needed three stitches! When her family saw her face… now _that_ promised to be an interesting conversation!

The last, but not least, thought on Winry's mind was how she was filled with joy at the way he'd explained himself right before his lips had driven every thought from her head. It was something he'd _wanted to do, _in other words, it had been premeditated! Despite the promise ring, the reality that Ed might care for her in the same way she cared for him had never struck Winry so strongly! She'd known for a long time that she loved him, of course, but there had always been that nagging fear in Winry's heart, that maybe when Ed said "she's just my mechanic" that was really all he 'd meant… Well, there was no way she could doubt that now! The real question at this point was whether or not Ed was going to be the same person who'd kissed her once he was no longer under the influence of heavy painkillers.

All in all, there were a lot of things weighing on Winry's mind, which probably would have kept her awake longer if she'd had the energy to do so… as it was, Winry fell asleep quickly and dreamlessly.


	48. The Next Morning

**Here's today's chapter, and now I have to go do **_**mes devoirs**_**. Afterwards, I'm going to come back on and post another chapter, in celebration of the fact that there's **_**no school today**_**! It's a snow day. It's been snowing since six o'clock last night, and I can STILL see it coming down. I'm hoping the snow freezes over tonight and I get tomorrow off, too, but just in case I don't, I have to have my homework done. **

**Ohmigod, I got**_** seven **_**reviews for that last chapter! That was my best day ever since I posted this story! I think I responded to like, every single one I got yesterday. AND GUESS WHAT, SEVEN IS NOW OFFICIALLY EQUAL TO SEVEN ZILLION. So thanks for my seven zillion reviews, everyone! This chapter, can we go for **_**eight**_** zillion?**

**I don't own FMA! Please review!

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**

The next morning Winry regretted falling asleep so quickly. She was slumped forward with her head atop her folded arms, which rested on the side of Ed's bed, but she was also still sitting on the metal folding chair she'd had brought in, and sleeping that way had given her several sore spots to rival the cut on her temple.

She didn't have to look around to see what had woken her, because Al was in the doorway, having just arrived.

He lowered his eyebrows a little when he saw her, a why-are-you-here look, but not in the mean way. "Winry, how'd you get in here before visiting hours? I thought I'd be able to see Brother at nine on the dot before anyone else got here, and yet here you are all the same."

"Al, you're limping. What's you do to your leg?" Winry dodged his question with a question of her own.

"Sprained it sometime during the battle, apparently. An ER nurse I met in the waiting room had to point it out to me and tell me to get checked out--I hadn't even realized there was anything wrong. The doctor who looked at my ankle was less concerned about the sprain and more concerned about what she called my 'frighteningly low' weight, which I thought was funny because I'm sure I've gained at least five pounds this week alone!" Al laughed once, then seemed to realize something. "Hey, Win, you didn't answer my question. How'd you manage to get in here?"

Winry blushed. "I had to lie a little."

"If that was all it took to get in I'm concerned for this hospital's security! Tell me, what'd you _really_ say? After all, I'm his only surviving blood relative and the nurses wouldn't let _me_ see him!"

"I don't want to tell you," Winry admitted. "You're going to laugh at me."

"Good, then that means it's funny, and there's no reason to be ashamed. Tell me."

"Well," she said, "It turns out spouses are exempt from the limitations of hospital visiting hours." She held up her hand, gesturing to the ring. "The nurse I was talking to made an assumption, and I... played it up."

Just as she'd predicted, Al started laughing. "Oh... my... God...! That's... hil... ar... i... ous!"

"Thanks," she said dryly.

Al seemed to have trouble halting his laughter.

"Nnn. Al, shut up," Ed groaned with eyes still closed. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Ed, you're awake?" Al sobered quickly.

"I'm trying not to be," he growled, "so stop giggling like a little girl. It's pissing me off."

"Sorry, Brother."

"How are you feeling, Ed?" Winry asked.

"Shitty."

She tugged his ear; he opened his eyes to glare at her. "What part of 'I'm trying to sleep' don't you and Al understand?"

"You sure are grumpy this morning."

"Would you do me a favor and pummel whatever doctor prescribed the painkillers I'm on? They made me dream some weird shit."

"Will do," she said without missing a beat.

"What 'weird shit' did you dream about, Brother?"

Unexpectedly, Winry got up and headed for the bathroom, mumbling something about brushing her teeth. When she closed the door, Al stopped staring in bewilderment and looked back down at Ed. "That was random," he commented. "So what's this about dreams, Ed?"

"Nothing. Just the usual suspects, I guess. Mom; Scar; the sea of blood in Gluttony's stomach."

"The painkillers gave you nightmares?" Al sounded a little more upset than the situation called for.

"Not all of them," Ed said quickly, before Al could get too worried. "At least two I can think of off the top of my head that were real nice. The freaky part was how realistic they all were. I didn't like it. Also, it was like one after another with no rhyme or reason to it, so much so that I was getting sick of dreaming. Then your laughing woke me up. Maybe I should be saying 'thank you,' now that I think about it."

"You don't have to say thanks. I know it'd make your brain explode," Al quipped.

"Shut up," Ed laughed. "I do _too_ say 'thank you' sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah." Al looked away then, toward the bathroom where Winry had retreated. He knew she wasn't brushing her teeth because there was no sound of water running. "Why do you think Winry ditched the conversation as soon as I asked what you dreamed about?"

"She had to brush her teeth, didn't you listen to her?"

"Not likely. Something was up, I could tell."

"You read too much into situations."

"You read too little into them," Al countered. "I'm surprised you didn't see it for what it was... after all, you make bailouts like that all the time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ed, every time something comes up in conversation that you don't want to talk about, you retreat."

"No, I don't," he said, but without conviction. He was trying to understand what Al was really saying. "So what's your point? You think there's something about_ my_ dreams that _Winry_ doesn't want to talk about? That's stupid. It's not like she's _privy_ to them."

"It's weird, isn't it? Now you see what I'm saying."

Ed frowned at the door. "Al, did she have a bandage on her head? Her right temple?"

"Yeah, Winry got injured while we were fighting, I think. She seemed okay, though. I think they just taped her up and let her go free, just like with me. What about it?"

Ed's jaw was slack, and he stared at the door with an unfathomable expression. "I think I might have done something _really_ stupid last night."

"What'd you do?" Al was coming up with the scariest possible situations, like Ed waking up without realizing he was no longer dreaming and hitting her or something. "Brother? Answer me."

"It's just..." Ed faltered, then sighed. "I can't."

"Why, Ed? Why can't you?" Al grabbed Ed's forearm and held it down to prevent him from rolling over and going back to sleep.

"Let go of me, Al," Ed said with a dangerous edge to his voice.

"Tell me, right now. You're scaring me, Ed."

"It's nothing like that. Whatever conclusion you just jumped to, it's wrong."

"Well... okay, so what _did_ happen?" Al tried to filter the fear out of his voice.

"Just settle with the knowledge that it's not urgent or life-threatening, it doesn't affect you, and I don't want to talk about it." Ed freed his arm and rolled over (this was semi-painful to do).

Al deflated. "I can't believe you don't trust me even with simple things anymore, Brother."

"It's not that I don't trust you... It's more like I'm not man enough to own up to it right now, Al. Blame me, not yourself."

Al frowned, trying to think of goings-on that would fit what he knew of the situation and coming up with precious little. "This is weird. Maybe I'll ask Winry about it later..."

"She won't tell you anything."

"Damn." Al paused and thought some more. "Why not?" This information could be relevant! "Did you ask her not to?"

"I just... _know_... she won't tell anyone. Not even you, and you're like her best girl friend."

"Her best girl friend? That's how she sees me?" Al laughed. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever--"

"Sh!" Ed shushed him. "I'm sleeping now."

"Um," Al whispered. "Okay, but I _swear_ I'm going to find out what you're hiding."

"Shut up," Ed whispered back.

* * *

**Next chapter...**

"_You must be Winry Rockbell, right?"_

"_Yes, that's me. Can I help you? What's your name?"_

"_Umm, it's Edel… Edel Schmidt," he said nervously. "I'm looking for Edward Elric, my father told me this was where I can find him?"_

"_Your father?"_

"_My father sent me because he can not come himself. It is imperative that I find and speak to the Fullmetal Alchemist. Please, would you tell me if I have come to the right place? Is this where Edward Elric lives?"_

Only when he wants to, _Winry thought.

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_

**Sadly, the edits to the chapter preview kind of downplay the mood of this chapter. You really ought to be suspicious of the way this kid pauses when giving his name. =D Damn, I'm giving too much away.**


	49. Recovery in Resembool

**You guys are going to think the OC in this chapter is either really cute or really annoying. That's all I can say of him for now!**

**I don't own FMA. Please review!**

* * *

"Stop moving around so much! Can't you be a good patient for like, five seconds?"

"It's uncomfortable lying still all the time," Ed complained. "Can't you at least give me a book to read or something?"

"No alchemy books," Winry said, heading him off early. "There's no point in you resting if you're going to continue research the whole time. You can read anything else you want though. I'm sure we have some nice fiction novels around here somewhere."

"Bo-oring," Ed groaned. He stretched the word out to four syllables. "Ugh, forget I asked. I'll just lay here listlessly, bored out of my skull…" He sighed loudly.

"That's a really weak guilt trip, Edward," Winry informed him, earning herself a dry glare from Ed as she picked up Ed's tray and went downstairs to wash the dishes. She was just on the bottom step of the staircase when she heard a timid knock on the front door. "Just a moment," she called, setting the dishes on the counter.

When she opened to door she found herself looking down on a little boy, small and lean enough to be eight or nine, though the maturity of his face suggested eleven or twelve. He was blond, with a haircut that looked like it was meant to be short but he hadn't gotten it cut in awhile; it stuck up everywhere, especially in the front and at the crown of his head. His eyes were wide and blue, and gave the impression that he was perpetually terrified. In his hand he carried a small, worn brown rucksack. The child had a stutter, but he tried to speak with confidence. "You m-must be Winry R-Rockbell, r-right?"

"Yes, that's me." Winry wondered if this child was here about automail. It was sad that someone so small should need it, however this wouldn't be the first time she'd fitted automail on someone his age. "Can I help you? What's your name?"

"Umm, it's Edel… Edel Schmidt," he said nervously. "I'm looking for Edward Elric, my f-father t-told me this was where I can f-find him?"

"Your father?"

"My father sent me bec-cause he cannot come himself. It is imperative that I find and speak to the Fullme-metal Al-Alchemist. Please, would you tell m-me if I have come to the right p-place? Is this where Edward Elric lives?"

_Only when he wants to,_ Winry thought. "Yes. Don't look so fidgety. I won't bite you. Come on, I'll take you to meet him, Edel."

The boy followed her into the house and up the stairs, turning his head back and forth and all around, his wide blue eyes taking in every detail of the house. "My family c-calls me Ed," he told Winry.

"I don't think I'll be able to get used to that, Edel," she responded. "You see, here we all call Edward 'Ed.' I would confuse myself if I called you that too."

"I see. You sh-should call me E-Edel, then. If it's easier, I m-mean." As strange look of triumph came across the boy's face. Winry chalked it up to him having found Edward's place of residence—she wasn't far off the mark.

"Why did your father send you here, Edel?" she asked to make conversation.

The little boy looked frightened. "My father… He… I have come bec-cause I have something very important to say to the Fullme-metal Alchemist."

Winry nodded slowly. He hadn't really answered the question. "Well, Ed—Edward I mean—is in bed right now. He was injured a week or so ago in Central and as soon as he was discharged from the hospital I insisted that he come home. You'll be able to speak with Edward, but you must promise not to get him too riled, okay? He needs to rest." _Even if he doesn't think he needs to,_ she added in her head.

"I won't do anything like that," Edel promised.

"All right, good," said Winry, stopping in front of the guest bedroom where Ed and Al had their beds. Al wasn't in there at this time of day, of course, but Ed hadn't been given much of a choice.

When Winry followed Edel in, the little boy turned and stopped her. "I hope you won't m-mind, but I would like to speak to E-Edward alone. I p-promise it won't be long. You've been very n-nice to me, Miss Winry."

"Fine," Winry conceded, drawn in by his cuteness and sincerity, "but if you're in here too long I'll have to come in and make you leave. Edward really should be resting."

"I understand." Edel closed the door behind him and Winry went back downstairs. She still had dishes to clean.

Ed wasn't allowed to sit up and considering the pain in his abdomen he didn't really want to, but he looked at the little boy curiously.

"You're Edward Elric?" the child confirmed. The stutter was gone.

Ed nodded. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

The little boy pressed his lips together solemnly, then opened his rucksack and started looking for something. He wasn't searching long; the pistol was at the top and the bullets in the front pocket so he could find them easier. The child was careful not to let Ed see what he was doing, and Ed was only vaguely familiar with the sound of a gun being loaded, so he didn't realize right away what was happening.

"Sorry, but who are you?" Ed repeated when the boy didn't answer him.

The boy was trembling visibly, but he managed to load the gun and pull it out of his bag with decent speed, and he pointed it straight at Edward's head. "My name is Eli Erlich, you're the reason my father is dead, and I'm the reason you're about to be."

* * *

**Muahaha! Sadism~! I know... that was a really mean cliffhanger. **

**...And Ed goes straight from one crisis to another! Don't worry, this one gets solved pretty quickly--and there's a surprise twist, courtesy of Winry's inability to hate small, cute children, despite their murderous intents.**

**The above counts as your preview 'cause I'm feeling lazy.**

**Please review!**


	50. Something He Won't Regret

**This chapter is freakin' long. It was almost two chapters, but I decided they went together pretty well. And lo, this 3k-word superchapter was born! Well, I'm aware that you guys want to know what happens with the gun-toting eleven-year-old, so enough ranting! I don't own FMA; please review!**

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Ed kept his cool. It was easier to do so when he thought about why this child was standing in front of him: He knew he had created this monster. He closed his eyes and chuckled faintly. "You've come to avenge your dad, huh? And you're how old? Eleven? Twelve? You know, when I was eleven I made the same bad decision you're making."

"You shot the guy who killed your father?"

"I royally screwed up my life in reaction to the death of a parent. Eli, think about what you're doing. Are you saving the day? Or are you destroying the lives of people who do not know you and mean you no harm? Eli, killing me won't solve your problems. It will only create more pain. You met Winry; she let you in here. One day, I'm going to tell that girl how much I love her. Of course, I can't do that if I'm dead, you know. And Alphonse; that's my little brother—one day I'm going to find a way to really make up for what I've done to him. Can't do that either if you kill me now. And Pinako, Winry's grandma—she may not seem like she's all that loving, but she's a strong, strong woman, and she's done more for me and Al than I think we'll ever really understand, though I feel like maybe I'm finally starting to. Those people have done nothing to you, Eli, and yet you would take me away from them and cause them pain."

"I—I could care less about your family!" Eli said, his voice shaking. "You don't know anything—you don't know what it's like for me! I have _sisters!_ Joli's three, and Meta's nine, and I'm only eleven—how am I supposed to take care of them as an orphan? It's all _your_ fault!" His resolve seemed to strengthen, then, and his trembling lessened.

"What's killing me going to do for Joli and Meta, huh? Will my death pay the bills? Put food in their bellies? Keep them out of the orphanage? When you come home to your sisters with the eyes of a killer, will they believe that what you have done is right?"

Hot tears blurred Eli's vision. "You don't know anything!"

"I know I won't lie down and die meaninglessly!" Ed shouted, forcing himself to sit up despite the pain. "I also know that you're as much a coward as your father was! Killing me with a gun because you can just pull the trigger without getting your hands dirty; it's the very definition of cowardice, and I won't stand for it." As he spoke, he was transmuting his arm into a blade, which was pretty useless considering that Eli hadn't moved away from the door and there was no way Ed could reach him from that distance, but the scare tactic was still pretty effective.

"Those are some big words about cowardice, considering the fact that you were the one who shot my father!" Eli said, backing into the door and keeping the gun as level as he could hold it.

"I didn't shoot him," Ed said with a frown of confusion. "Who told you that?"

His transparency brought Eli up short. "You… you didn't shoot Dad? But… tell me who shot him, then!"

Ed shook his head. "What, so you can go kill her instead? Yeah, right."

* * *

Winry listened for sounds from upstairs when she was done washing the dishes. She sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and watched the clock. After fifteen minutes she planned to go up and check on Ed and Edel, but the time was cut short when Winry heard Ed shouting. Edel had probably made a short joke or something, she thought. She'd made the little boy promise not to get Ed too riled, though, and now she would have to go break up the party.

When she got to the top of the stairs Winry heard Edel's sobs and realized the situation might be worse than she'd thought—she blamed Ed for scaring the little boy, of course!

"Edward, why do you have to be so—" Winry began as she opened the door, but as she ran right into Edel who had apparently been pressed up against it, she realized she'd seriously misjudged the situation.

"'Her,' you said 'her'! A girl killed my father? Tell me who it was!"

"Winry, get out of here!" Ed shouted, noticing Winry before the boy did.

Edel whirled around and pointed the gun at Winry's heart. "Was it _you?_"

"It wasn't her!"

"What wasn't me?" Winry shouted, her voice jumping up to the ridiculously high 'fear' octave as she backed up into the wall of the other side of the hallway. Edel walked with her so she couldn't escape.

"Eli, I'm telling you, she didn't shoot your father!" Ed had his flesh arm wrapped around his abdomen where it hurt, and he was trying to stand.

"Eli? What are you talking about? He told me his name was Edel!" Winry's eyes flashed from Edward, who she wished would stay in bed, to Edel, though she doubted that was actually his name. "You lied to me?"

"His name's Eli Erlich," Ed explained.

"'Erlich,' you mean—?"

"Yeah, that's the same guy who I fought in the junkyard. This is his kid."

"Why's he here?" Winry looked down at the kid. "Why're you here?"

"I'm here to kill the person who killed my father!" Eli looked surprisingly determined and angry despite his copious tears. "Did you shoot my dad?"

"No!" said Winry and Ed at the same time.

Eli had to use both thumbs to cock the hammer of his gun, which made it only slightly less scary. "Who shot him? Tell me!"

"Eli, please don't do this," Winry said, trying to be soothing. "It's not worth it."

"Tell me, _now_!"

"Eli," Ed said in a low, dangerous voice, and the boy stiffened as the cool point of the blade of Ed's arm touched the skin of the back of his neck. Winry was annoyed that Ed had transmuted the automail again, but this was hardly an appropriate time.

"I've got three pounds of pressure on a four-pound trigger," Eli responded, his high, childish voice at odds with his dark words. "If you slice my neck there's a good chance my hand will jerk and she'll die."

"I'll take that chance," Ed said, to Winry's indignation, and then he leaned in and whispered so quietly that even at a child's arm's length away, she couldn't hear what he was saying.

* * *

Ed tried to sound as sadistic as possible, and though it was hard to be scary when he was terrified himself, he managed the bluff for Winry's sake. "Now you listen to me. This automail is the best in the world, and it'll be ridiculously easy for me to free your head of the dead weight of your body. After that's done I figure you won't be going anywhere, don't you? Afterwards, I'll castrate you just to prove I can, and I'll mail the family jewels back home to your mother."

"My mother's dead," Eli said, as if this negated Ed's threat.

"So's mine; drop your gun."

To everyone's surprise, even Ed's, Eli lowered his weapon. Ed reached around Eli's body with his flesh hand and took it.

Even though Eli was still stuck in one place by the blade of Ed's arm, he lowered his head and started sobbing uncontrollably. "J-Joli and Me-… Meta; what am I sup… posed to do now?" he cried.

Ed backed off, averting his eyes and feeling incredibly guilty. In spite of the fact that he'd just threatened her life, Winry couldn't help feeling bad for the poor child, and she stepped forward and hugged him.

"Winry!"

"What?" She glared at Ed.

"Ever heard about not fraternizing with the enemy?"

"He's not _the enemy_, Edward, he's a desperate little boy who's just lost his parents and doesn't know what else to do. Have a little sympathy."

"Have a little _brains_," he muttered.

Winry produced a wrench and chucked it squarely at his head.

"Ow!"

"You deserved it. Now go lie down before you open your stitches or I'll hit you again, twice as hard." Winry didn't think she'd ever seen Ed look so betrayed.

Before he could stop himself, and just as he was heading back into the bedroom, Ed muttered something he wished he could take back almost immediately: "Bitch."

He expected another wrench to the skull, or some really loud, choice language, or at the very least a short joke to leave him fuming, but Winry surprised him by doing… absolutely nothing. Well, not _absolutely_ nothing, but _he_ didn't notice the tears in her eyes as she watched him drag himself back to bed, almost doubled over in pain (he'd refused painkillers after _that first night_).

"Ed… I'll be back to check on you later," she said, but that was what she'd said every time she'd left his side that week, so it didn't mean anything. Then she looked down at Eli, who was trying to control his blubbering and only half succeeding. "How about we go downstairs and I make you some nice tea, Eli?" With one hand on his back to guide him gently, she started walking away.

Ed didn't dare turn around.

* * *

"Tea?" Eli repeated, looking up at her. "Why?"

"Because you look like you need something warm and comforting right about now."

"No… I mean, aren't you mad at me?"

Winry smoothed his bangs back in a very motherly way. "No. I don't think you were really going to do anything, and besides, I know why you did it."

"I… I'm sorry. You're clearly a really nice person, and if I'd have shot you I probably would never have found that out."

"Thanks… that makes me happy." But she didn't sound all that glad, Eli noted.

They reached the kitchen then, and Winry said, "So. Tea?"

"Yes… please."

She grabbed the kettle and started filling it with water. "And then we'll talk about what to do about your sisters."

"What?"

"Well, what kind of person would I be if I just turned you out when I had such a… such a large part in the reason why you're here? A horrible one, that's what."

"You mean you're going to help me?" He sounded as if he was afraid to believe what he was hearing. "Really?"

"Of course." Winry turned and gave him a sad smile. "Ed and I both know what it's like to live without your parents. Having to figure out how to pick up the pieces. Ed had a little brother to take care of, too, when his mom died."

"Why'd she die?" It sounded morbid, he realized too late.

Winry understood that he wasn't trying to be morbid, he just wanted to empathize with someone, so she answered his question anyway. "She was sick. Their dad left when they were very small, so Ed and Al were on their own." When a high keening began to emit from the kettle's lips, Winry removed it from the heat. "Ed and Al know what it's like to do something desperate like what you almost did, Eli. Trust me, we've all been where you are now."

"And… and yours? What happened to your parents?"

"You were probably just a baby, or maybe not even born yet, but back during the Ishbal Rebellion—"

"I learned about it in school."

"Yes. Well, my mom and dad were doctors, and they treated both Amestrians and Ishbalans. They died there, in the warzone."

"By accident?" Eli asked.

"Unfortunately, no. They were killed by someone they saved…" She paused, then forced herself to go on. "I met the man who killed my parents. He could never really give me a good reason for why he did it, but I've come to terms with their deaths, and their murderer."

"Who would kill a pair of doctors? That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard of!" Eli really _did _sound outraged, bless his heart!

"There are worse ways to die than doing what you believe is right. In that way at least, your father died as noble a death as my parents did." Winry brought their cups to the table and sat down across from Eli. "Anyway, enough of this talk. It's depressing. I feel progress is often the best way to move forward."

"But that's what 'progress'_ means_…" Winry laughed then, and Eli realized it was a joke and laughed too.

Wiry sipped her tea and sobered. "So, do you have any family that will take you in? Grandparents, aunts, uncles…?"

"Both of my parents were only children, and our only surviving grandparent is Cretan, but we can't move in with her; we don't have passports or even the money to get to Creta. And besides, we don't speak Cretan, or even look Cretan. We wouldn't fit in even if we _could_ get there somehow. I don't want to move to another country, and neither will Joli or Meta…" He paused and stared down at his tea. "I'm afraid we're going to get taken to the orphanage. It's not a good place for them to grow up. Meta is too sensitive for an orphanage, despite how mean a lot of people think she is, and Joli's just so _little…_"

"How old are your sisters?" Winry asked, smiling.

"Joli's three. Meta's nine."

"You seem like such a caring big brother. What else can you tell me about them?"

Eli reached into the front pocket of his rucksack and produced a picture of a blond woman holding a red-haired baby in her lap. On one side of the woman was a little blond six-year-old girl, and on the other side was a nine-year-old Eli. Winry noticed the same wide blue eyes on every face. "Your mom, your sisters, and you?" she guessed.

"Yeah. Mom died a month after this was taken, so it's really special to me."

"Where was your dad?"

"He wouldn't take the picture. He thinks photographs steal your soul—he's superstitious that way. Well, he _was. _He got so upset when Mom insisted we take that picture… he avoided us for about a week before he realized that we weren't soulless. And then, the accident three weeks later… Dad was never the same. He thought we were cursed. He started avoiding us as much as possible. But that might not've been because we were cursed. That was probably because we all have her eyes, exactly her eyes. Regardless, he would make us carry four-leafed clovers around in our pockets whenever we went out. He told Meta and me that if we didn't do it, we would die in a freak accident like Mom." Eli sighed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "He was a weird guy, and he kind of lost it after she was gone, but… he was my dad, you know? I loved him… _We_ loved him. We _needed_ him…"

Tears stung Winry's eyes. "Yeah. I know _exactly_ what you mean."

* * *

**So there. Important evidence that Erlich was indeed crazy after the death of his wife, and unstable even before that--now you all can be assured that Erlich Senior wasn't just a big meanie face who did sadistic things 'cause he liked it. --Not that I'm justifying his actions! Kidnapping and emotional blackmail is WRONG, kids! Even if you're a terrorist! IMO terrorists should be polite, functioning members of society xD**

**Please review! And yes, I DID get exactly the eight zillion reviews I wanted. ^^**


	51. Al's 'Idea'

**Last chapter was really long, this one is really short. Sorry, I'm not in the mood to write a real cheery AN... I'm trying to get over the fact that I'm FAILING PRE-CALC and I've never failed a class in my goddamn life. Even more disconcerting is the fact that I have As in every other one of my classes (except Chemistry, which is a B anyway). Is that not bullshit or what? How can I possibly get a 47%! It just makes me want to fuckin' _kill _something! I don't understand how you can do well in every other goddamn class and yet the teacher can still fucking fail you and blame you for it. Every time I say "I don't understand" my teacher blows me off and says "Well, maybe you would understand more if you _paid attention_." Yeah... fuck you, okay? I would pay attention if you would actually teach, asshole!

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"Grandma!" Winry said, hopping up as Pinako and Al walked through the door. Both of them were laden with bags of groceries. Pinako was almost completely obscured by the bags, and only the top of Al's head was visible behind the bags.

"Hi, Winry," Pinako and Al said together.

Winry went to help them set the bags on the table and started unpacking the food.

"Who's this, Winry?" asked Pinako, looking at Eli, who looked a little bewildered.

"Grandma, this is Eli. Eli, this is my grandmother, and that's Ed's little brother, Al."

"Hi, Eli," said Al. "You met my brother?"

"You… you could say that, I guess." Eli looked downright terrified now.

"I'll explain that later," Winry cut in. "Actually, Grandma, it's good that you showed up when you did. We were just puzzling over what to do with him and his sisters."

"What's with them?"

"Oh, well, that's part of the story. Long story short, Eli's dad was the guy in the junkyard, that Erlich fellow. Eli has two little sisters and no family. We have to figure out what to do about them, or else they're going to get dumped in an orphanage."

"Ugh," said Al, "That's horrible. I'm always glad me and Ed had Grandma to take care of us when Mom died."

"Hey, that might actually work, Al," said Winry, breaking into a smile.

"What might work?"

Winry turned to Pinako and put on her best pleading expression. "Grandma, could you _please…_?"

"Oh, no! I raised you, your father, Ed, _and_ Al, and now you want to dump even _more_ little kids on me?"

"Grandma, he has nowhere else to go! And it's practically our fault!"

"Where will they stay? We don't have _space_ for three more kids!"

"We'll make it work! You can't really be telling me you'd rather toss him out on the street?"

"Well, I guess not, when you put it that way, but the fact remains—"

Eli jumped up and, despite his shy nature, embraced Pinako tightly. "You don't know how much this means to me, Winry's Nice Grandma! Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!"

"I—well—you're welcome, Eli. And welcome to our home, I guess," Pinako spluttered, taken aback by the sudden display of affection.

"Where are your sisters, Eli?" asked Al. "You didn't leave them in Central, did you?"

"Well, no… I… well, I couldn't leave them! Meta is old enough to watch Joli for a few minutes, so I left her there and told her to wait and I'd come back very soon, when I'd gotten our revenge, and—oh, no! I've been gone for way longer than I said I would!" Eli ran back to the table and snatched his rucksack up, then sprinted for the door. "I have to get to the station!" he shouted behind him.

"Hey Al, would you chase him down and make sure he gets there okay?" Winry asked. "I'd do it myself, but I have some other stuff to do first. You don't mind, do you?" She meant this sprained ankle. He didn't appear to be favoring it all that much, but he wasn't supposed to be putting too much stress on it, either.

"No, not at all. I'll make sure he gets back here safely, Win." Al waved at Winry and Pinako, then walked out the door Eli had just run through.

Winry turned to Pinako. "I'll make dinner, since you and Al went shopping and everything."

"That's good," Pinako responded. "I have work to do in the shop." She paused. "What was that you told Al you had to do here?"

Winry sighed lightly. "Ed and I had a little disagreement. I think I hurt his feelings. I have to apologize."

"Well, good luck with that, then."

"…Yeah. We have a _lot _of things to talk about, actually."

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**Next chapter: YAY, FLUFFINESS. You'll like it!**

**Yeah, I figured most of you were expecting something like this to happen. Although some people were certain that Eli was going to try something sneaky--he's not that resolute of a person. He's not _Ed_ xD  
**


	52. The Amestris's Biggest Jackass Award

**Timeline: Can't remember if I mentioned this, but Chapter 50, 51, this chapter, and a few others beyond are all occurring eight days after the night at the junkyard, or seven days after the kiss in the hospital, if you guys like to think of the time after midnight as a separate day. This is relevant because in later chapters a minor OC refers to the day the Elrics and Rockbells came back as 'the other day' because he's an older person and the days sort of blend together more, while in actuality the Elrics and Rockbells came back to Resembool four days prior to the 'day' it is right now (in this chapter). I just wanted to be perfectly clear about that.  


* * *

**

Ed laid facedown on the bed that was his cell in the room that was his prison. He was half expecting a parade of clowns and cheerleaders to come bursting though the door to present him with the Amestris's Biggest Asshole Award. He kept asking himself what had been going through his mind, and the answer was definitive and always the same: Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And now Winry probably hated his guts.

Damn, damn, _damn!_

_Idiot!_

How could he have let his temper take control of him like that?

All he'd really been able to figure out of his actions was that after being so scared that she was gonna die, Winry had turned on him and embraced _the enemy._ He'd just wanted her to hurt the same way he had been hurting.

Someone knocked timidly on the door. Al probably, to lecture him. Or Granny Pinako, to bring dinner because Winry had refused to enter his room.

"It's not like you'll go away if I ask," Ed said to allow the person entrance. They opened the door, but Ed didn't look up. This pillow seemed soft enough. Maybe he could just stick his face in there and suffocate himself. Would that actually work? He was half willing to give it a try. "What do you want?" he asked the person who had come in.

"Ed, I brought you dinner. Are you hungry?"

Ed froze for a moment. She'd come back? _Willingly?_ Why?

Maybe now she was ready to do the screaming-and-cussing-and-throwing-wrenches angry routine.

Ed didn't say anything in response to her question—he just waited.

But she didn't yell, or cuss, or throw wrenches at his head, even though Ed knew he deserved it. She set the tray down on the little table beside the bed, then knelt beside it, so that her voice was at his ear. "Ed? Are you mad at me?"

He lifted his head and frowned at her. "Mad at you? What for? I thought _you_ were mad at _me!_"

"Well, do you want me to be?"

"No. That's a stupid question."

"Then I won't be," she said simply, as if that was that. "So, are you mad at me?"

"I was the one who called you that… name. I should be the one in trouble here. Why're you just letting me off the hook?" Ed was apparently unable to get past the fact that he wasn't in trouble.

"Because I don't want to be mad. And especially not over something so stupid. There are plenty of other things to be mad about."

Ed stared at the headboard with his chin resting on the pillow. "Like what?" he joked.

"Like what happened at the hospital that first night? Actually, the real thing I'm annoyed about is the fact that you haven't brought it up yet."

Ed frowned and blushed. Yes, he remembered that all too clearly. He didn't know how to address it, or if it had indeed actually happened. It would be pretty awkward if he'd brought it up, only to find out it really _had_ been a dream!

"I don't know what you're talking about, Winry."

She tugged his earlobe. "You're blushing. See how pink your ears are! You can't really mean to tell me you don't remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. All I remember from that night is that I had a lot of really weird dreams because of those painkillers. I have no idea what _you're_ talking about."

Her eyes dampened and she looked downward. "I guess maybe you really don't remember."

By her tone, Ed could be sure that that hadn't been a dream. _Damn!_ He just kept making things worse and worse! "Winry… I…"

"Just forget I brought this up, Ed. I know I'm not making sense right now."

"No, it's not that, it's just… I _do_ remember."

"You don't have to lie to make me feel better, Ed. I can tell you have no idea what I'm talking about. Please, just forget about it, okay?" She stood up to leave.

"Winry, wait." Ed sat up painfully and grabbed her wrist, stopping her as she turned to leave.

"Ed, don't do this!" She just wanted to get away before she really started crying!

Ed refused to let go of her hand, though, and he matched the force of her pulling away with the force to pull her back. There was a short tug-of-war between them, until Winry lost her balance and stumbled onto the bed and landed on top of Ed.

"Oof."

"Ow."

"Oh, sorry! I forgot you're still hurt." Winry tried to get up, but Ed stopped her by draping his arm around her waist.

"You're not hurting me that much. Lie here a minute with me, Winry." He closed his eyes, smiling serenely.

"Ed, you're being weird."

"I know. Shh."

"Why?"

"I'm enjoying the moment."

"Oh." She was quiet for a minute, watching his face. Eventually Ed opened one eye and looked at her with a smirk.

"Did I scare you?"

"Sorry?"

"When I told you about the dream where you shot yourself. Did I scare you?"

"I… guess… I mean, you kind of dumped a lot on my mind that night."

Ed was quiet for a second, staring past her shoulder at the ceiling. "I'm sorry."

"For scaring me?" She chuckled. "You're forgiven."

"No," he corrected, "I'm sorry for not having the guts to talk to you about it. You said that was a better reason to be mad than the other, right? Well, I'm sorry."

"Oh." She paused. "Well, you're still forgiven, I guess. Mostly because I can't find it in me to be mad, but I guess that's as good a reason as any."

"Good, then I won't feel like a hypocrite when I do this." His automail hand was already around her waist, so his flesh hand was free to reach up and pull her face down to his.

When they broke apart a few seconds later, Winry's hand went up to his forehead. "What's gotten into you? Are you running a fever or something?"

"Was I that bad?" He smirked.

"No," she said quickly, her voice dipping in a way that said, 'Quite the opposite!' "It's just that I wasn't expecting… that… It's just that I figured, knowing you, I would have to, um, initiate…"

"'Knowing me'? What's that supposed to mean?"

Winry was blushing magnificently. "I'm so embarrassed that you're making me say this, but I'd always figured that if the time came, _I_ would be the one to kiss _you_ first."

She'd actually _thought_ about this? And here he'd been thinking he'd be lucky if she didn't reject him! "Why _you_? You think I'd be too scared to do it?"

"Well, clearly not." She tugged his earlobe once. "I just think you're too indecisive about personal stuff like that. I knew I'd have to _force_ you into a decision if I wanted you to make one."

He caught her hand after she'd pulled his ear, then brandished the ring, which still smelled vaguely of jewelry cleaner. "And how is _this_ not the decision I made?"

"That might mean something, Ed, but it could mean anything. You could _claim_ it's your decision, but it only _passes_ by a hair's breadth."

Ed closed his eyes, scowling slightly. "This is complicated."

"Sorry?" She didn't really know what to say to that. "I guess I just overthought it."

"Yes."

There was a lull in the conversation then, but the silence wasn't awkward. They were just enjoying the moment together—though neither could deny that their hearts weren't beating a mile a minute.

Presently Ed opened his eyes, realizing that if he didn't he would soon fall asleep and he didn't want that. He noticed that Winry was biting her lip, and she seemed to be holding back tears and failing spectacularly. "What's wrong?" he asked with a little catch in his voice.

"I… it's nothing. I'm being stupid." She scrubbed them away. "It's not my fault, after all."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, at first I was thinking I wanted to ask you about the scar I saw on you that I promised I'd ask you about later. But then that got me thinking about the battle and Eli and his little sisters and—well, I guess you didn't get to see the picture, but the girls are so beautiful, and they have precisely the same eyes as their mom, and he said his mom was dead and I just—just got overwhelmed I guess."

"Breathe once in a while, Winry. You're scaring me." She took a loud, sarcastic breath. "Good," he said, just as sarcastically. "Now explain to me why it's necessary that you cry over someone else's misfortune? Someone who you don't even know? And who tried to shoot you in cold blood less than an hour ago?"

"He's a little kid, Ed," said Winry, trying to keep her tone inoffensive so they wouldn't have the same argument as earlier. "He doesn't have anywhere to go and he's stuck with two little sisters to take care of and no one who loves him or anything and he's just trying to do what makes sense right now. He has even less going for him than you or I did when we lost our parents, Ed. And I feel like it's my fault. It's like with Scar… in the alley, you remember."

Yeah. All too well, after that dream he'd had in the hospital. "I guess I see what you mean, Winry. But please don't compare yourself to Scar. It's true that there are… similarities, but it's the differences that really count. Winry, you didn't kill him, and even if you had it would have been completely justified. Erlich was no benevolent doctor, saving your life. If he hadn't died, we probably would have."

"I know all that already. It's what I'm telling myself. But still, the _similarities_… It's too much. That's why I couldn't send him away, and why I was so insistent to Grandma about letting him and his sisters stay with us."

Ed pulled himself out from under her and sat up. _"What?"_

"Oh… right. I didn't tell you about that, did I? Yeah, I begged Grandma to let him stay with us, and she's the kind of person who couldn't have lived with herself if she'd said no. I take it for granted sometimes that Grandma's so giving, but it's part of the way she is."

Ed gaped. "He's staying here! With us?"

"Yes, Ed," Winry said patiently.

Ed made some unintelligible spluttering noises, then wisely sealed his lips and stared at her.

"Ed, say something. You're making me nervous."

"You invited the spawn of a crazy, would-be murderer into the house to live here, and the eldest of them has already made it clear that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and you and Grandma are apparently _completely okay with it._ What am I _supposed_ to say?"

"Ed, don't call them 'spawn,' they're children. Little kids who've lost their parents and need a place to go. Eli came to us desperate and attention-starved and at his wit's end, with a gun that didn't so much tell us 'I want to kill you' as much as it told us 'I need help.' Now, Ed, can you honestly tell me that there's a reason you don't want them here, other than the fact that Eli did something stupid because he'd just lost his only surviving parent and had little siblings to take care of and didn't know what else to do?"

Of course she would word it so it sounded like his own story—how could he refute Eli's reasons when she laid it out like that?

Ed pouted. "I don't like kids."

* * *

**Hey, random question for you guys! When writing that phrase, do you write "hair's breadth" or "hare's breath?" A hair is very thin, therefore its breadth is very small, and a hare is a small animal, therefore its breath is also small. So which phrase do you use when writing? I know most people don't differentiate between the difference between "breadth" and "breath" when they're speaking, so I can never tell which one it is. When I used that phrase in the chapter, I said "hair's breadth," because it seemed more logical at the time I was writing and I didn't want to think too hard about it, but I would like to know what you guys think.**

**Well, yes, that was the anticipated fluffiness I promised last chapter--hope you enjoyed it! This chapter also serves the plot purpose of explaining why Ed's not as much of a grouch towards the Erlich kids in later chapters as maybe you'd expect him to be. Actually, it's not that Ed's forcing his feelings, but Winry pretty much has him wrapped around her finger at this point, so he forces himself to have an open mind and lets the kids earn his respect in their own ways. **

**Anybody wondering about the pronunciation of the Erlich kids' names? I've had no one ask me about it yet, but just for reference: Meta = long 'e' like meet/meat. Joli = Jolie minus the 'e.' This actually has some meaning! Joli/Jolie means 'beautiful' in French, but the 'e' makes the word feminine, so the adjective only applies to girls when it has an 'e' on it, and only to men when there's no 'e.' The fact that Joli has a "boy's" name, and the fact that she has red hair while the other Erlichs are blond, are both references to the isolation that Joli has suffered under practically since birth. She was only three months old when her mother died, so while six-year-old Meta and nine-year-old Eli were old enough to be 'ignored' without much happening in consequence, Joli was the child that still had to be paid attention to, so she got some serious resentment from her father for that dependency. It's hard to tell, when we first meet Joli in the story, that she has problems, but there are references to issues that Joli has--Meta mentions that Joli does not sleep through the night because of nightmares, for example. These are yet more hints that Joli has developed some deeper psychological issues that will have to be dealt with as she ages. And yes, she will age! **

**I have already got planned a sequel to this fic (if and when I decide to wrap it up) which will start off two years after this fic, (or one if it continues long enough; I want Ed and Winry to be seventeen, so if this one continues for a really long time, the sequel will pick up where this one left off--the point is, there's a scene already written in my mind for Ed's seventeenth birthday.) Anyway, this sequel idea will put some consideration into how the Erlich children grow up in Resembool after... well, a lot of stuff is already planned to happen that I can't go into but which I promise you will explore first, Meta's and Eli's future, and second, Joli's psychological issues.**

**Another real interesting point while I'm chattering about the Erlich kids--I think you'll find Meta to be very interesting! At first it seems like she alternately hates and is afraid of Ed, but later on we start to get this feeling like Meta has grown to idolize Ed (and to a lesser extent, Al), comparing Ed's past to her own and trying to be like him in some ways. It's all vitally interesting to me--I hope I get some reviewers as entertained as I am by human psychology to comment on the relationship between Meta and Ed.**


	53. Resembool Station and Lucy's Diner

**No Ed and Winry this chapter. Keep in mind that it's happening at the same time as Chapter 52! You remember in Chapter 51 where Al left to follow Eli, well, this is where they went! This chapter also doubles as your first instance of actually meeting the Erlich girls. Notice how nice and resposible Meta sems--this seems to change when she's around Ed, Winry, and Al, and **_**yes**_**, that is a prejudice, and **_**no**_**, she's not going to act violently on it!**

**I don't own FMA. Please review!

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**

"Look, little girl, you can't just sit here at the station all day! You're loitering. And if you can't control that baby's squalling I have to call the police about neglect. Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Meta, with frustrated tears in her eyes as she held Joli and tried to make her stop crying. "My brother's coming back for us, but I don't know where he is. I'm so sorry about the baby. She's just hungry." Meta looked down and addressed Joli. "Please, babe, I know you're hungry, but we don't have any money right now so you have to live with it, okay?"

"My tummy hurts!"

"I know, Jo-jo. Mine too. Please stop crying so the man won't be angry at us."

"No! I want dinner!"

"I know!" Meta sighed and stared at the single road that led into town, keeping watch for her big brother. He was late—did that mean something had happened to him? But no, she didn't want to think about that! She was going to start crying, and she _couldn't_ cry; she had to be calm for Joli. Without really noticing she was doing it, Meta pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"Look, kid," said the man who'd been harassing them on and off for the last hour. She had been thinking of him as _the train station man_, but she didn't really know what his job was. "I feel bad for you, but you're being a public nuisance. Here, how's about I give you 200 cenz to feed you tonight. But then you need to get out of here, okay?"

"Yes, we'll go," Meta surrendered, taking the 200 cenz gratefully. "But if my brother comes—he looks a lot like me, with the hair and eye color, but he's older—would you please tell him we had to leave? And tell him I took Joli to get something to eat. Thank you so much, Mister Train Station Man."

He looked sympathetic as he waved them away from the station, and Meta had the insight to know he was only doing his job, even as she towed a still-screaming Joli away and wondered about her big brother's fate. The money tingled in Meta's pocket, and she headed into the first diner she saw, a block from the station. "You hungry, Jo-jo?" Meta asked to rile Joli about getting some food in her belly. "I can get you some dinner now! You ready for dinner?"

Joli wasn't ready to be _happy_ about food, but she did cease crying temporarily. "It's dinnertime? Where's Brother?"

"He went to the Fullmetal Alchemist's house to visit. He'll be back soon, Jo-jo, I promise."

"'Kay."

* * *

As he ran up and skidded to a halt at the platform, Eli gasped and stared in horror at the little bench where he'd told Meta to wait. She was gone, Joli was gone, their bags with all their worldly belongings—and most of his—were gone. There was no trace of them! He looked around frantically for any sign of them, but the only person in sight was the uniformed man leaning casually against the ticket counter, smoking a cigarette and eyeing him oddly. All right, well, he _was_ an employee, maybe he had some idea of where his sisters were. It was worth a shot. "Mister, um, train station man?" he asked.

The man started, and scrutinized him more closely. "You looking for somebody?"

"Yes, my sisters. A three-year-old with red hair and blue eyes and a green dress and a pink backpack, and a nine-year-old with blonde hair and blue eyes and glasses, wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt and an army-green-colored backpack and also carrying a black duffel bag. Have you seen anyone like that?"

"Wow, you're real specific, aren't you? Yes, I saw the girls you're talking about. The baby was screaming for food, and I had to send them away."

"You sent them away?" Eli repeated angrily. "Why would you do tha—?"

"I told you, the baby was screaming for food. I gave them 200 cenz and sent them to get something to eat. They probably went into Lucy's Diner; it's closest and the baby didn't look like she was up for walking very far, what with all that yowling she was doing."

"Which way?" Eli asked urgently. The man pointed, and Eli set off without even a thank-you.

Alphonse appeared a few minutes later. "Hi, Mr. Jacobs."

"Hi, Alphonse. I've been seeing you a lot recently. You were in a pretty big hurry when you left Resembool last, and then Ed looked pretty bad when you brought him in the other day, too. How's he doing?"

"Just fine. And what about you? I heard your daughter had a baby Wednesday evening!"

"I haven't been able to get away from work to head up to Eastern to see them—not everybody has the kind of freedom that you and Ed do! But they're going to send me pictures soon, so it's okay. It's a girl—my first granddaughter, since Greg and his wife had all boys! Dana told me they named the baby Margaret after her grandmother—and you shoulda seen my wife! Maggie was so pleased I swear she was actually squealing with delight. "

"That's great news," said Al. "Anyway, I'm here because I'm supposed to be following a little boy, and he's just been one step ahead of me the whole time, mostly thanks to this sprain. Did a little blond boy with a brown rucksack come through here?"

"Yes, he passed by not long ago, actually. You should be able to catch him; I sent him to Lucy's."

"What for?"

"Well, he was looking for these little girls, his sisters, and about an hour and a half ago I'd given the older girl 200 cenz to take the baby away from the station and buy her a decent meal—the little one was crying incessantly. I was pretty sure they went to Lucy's, since that's closest, so I sent the boy there."

"All right then. Thank you, Mr. Jacobs, and tell Dana and John I said congratulations."

"Will do, Al, and good luck catching the little boy."

* * *

"Meta!" Eli burst out in relief as he ran into the first restaurant he saw on the road and saw her at a table in the center. He was too loud, because the other customers (there were fewer than he could count on one hand) turned to look at him.

Meta looked up and broke into a broad smile immediately upon realizing who it was. Joli followed Meta's gaze and turned, joyfully shouting "Brother!" when she saw him.

"Hi, Jo-jo," Eli said in the high, singsongy tone he reserved for her alone. "Have you been a good girl like Brother asked you to?" Referring to himself in the third person: It was only something you could get away with when talking to a baby.

"Ugh," Meta groaned, answering Eli's question, "She was horrible! She screamed the whole time you were gone almost, right up until the waitress handed her food, and then she was so into that you wouldn't even know she'd been crying at all. Which was good, because I was getting so embarrassed with everyone giving me 'shut-that-baby-up-and-what-is-that-little-kid-even-doing-alone-with-that-baby' glares. I hated it. So, did you get done what you came here for, Brother?"

Meanwhile, Joli was informing him that she had in fact been a good girl, and did he bring her any toys?

"Sorry, baby, not this time," said Eli to Joli, then he looked at Meta as he sat down and pulled Joli onto his lap. "There's good news and bad news, which do you want first?"

"The bad," she said promptly.

"I didn't shoot him."

"What? Eli, are you an idiot? What, did you chicken out or something? He killed Dad, and you told me yourself: we have to make him pay! In fact, I'm going there _right now_!"

She stood up to leave, but Eli put up his hand to stop her. "Sit back down, I haven't told you the good news yet."

She pouted. "This better be good, Brother."

"Oh, it is." He paused for effect, grinning. "I found someone who will let us stay with them."

"That's great! For how long?"

"As long as you want. It's an open invitation," said someone who had just walked up to the table.

Meta looked up and frowned at the newcomer, when frowned at her brother, who looked like someone had stuck a pin in his chair but he wasn't allowed to stand and remove it. "Who are _you?_" she asked, and when she realized how rude that sounded, she tried to soften her tone. "Sorry… I mean, um… well, who _are_ you?"

He smiled broadly. "My name's Alphonse, and you?"

"Um… it's Meta, but…" Al held out his hand, and she looked at him sideways for a moment before awkwardly shaking it. "Actually, what I meant was why are you… y'know, here? Talking to us."

"I know what you meant," Alphonse laughed. "I followed your brother here to help him pick you guys up and bring you back to Granny Pinako's house."

"Uh… Who's that?"

"Oh, well… I guess I have to start explaining from the beginning?"

"Don't worry about it," Eli interrupted. "I'll explain, Alphonse. She'll believe me more than you anyway, and I'm pretty sure you're going to be pissed when I explain who he is, Meta."

"Why? Who is he?"

"He's Edward Elric's brother."

"_What_? How could you—?"

"Just try to chill out for a minute, Meta, I'm going to explain everything! You have to have a little faith in me, sis."

Meta crossed her arms and stood, gathering the bags she'd hung across the back of her chair. Let's go, people are staring at us like we're circus freaks or something. We'll walk and talk."

"Fine," Eli said, and as Meta picked up the bags, he picked up Joli, who was by now done with her food. "Ready to go, Jo-jo? Brother got you a nice place to sleep tonight, and you can have a nice bath, too!"

"Ew. I don't wanna bath. Brother, _you_ take the bath."

Eli laughed and lifted her onto his shoulders. "Okay, I'll take the bath, Jo-jo. You don't have to!"

Meta nudged her older brother. "You're just saying that, right? Joli really needs a bath. None of us have really gotten clean in what, five days? Since that nice old lady in the last town sent us packing."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure she gets a bath," he whispered back.

As Al followed the younger kids out, someone behind him called him back. He turned and looked at the waitress on duty, June Ryder. She was sixteen, not much older than Al himself, and she worked here because she was the niece of the owner. "Al, who _were_ those kids? They were so weird… that girl and the baby… Especially the girl. She's what, ten? And eerily mature. Can you tell me anything about what's with them?"

"They just lost their father, and their mother's been dead awhile from what I've gathered. I don't think the thing is so much that they're mature or 'weird,' but… losing a parent ages you."

June nodded knowingly. "Things were never the same after Dad died in Ishbal."

"Exactly. And you didn't even have to worry about taking care of Brian and James because you still had your mother. Imagine if you'd had no one at all? It's painful to think about. At least when Ed and I lost our mother, we still had Pinako and Winry to take care of us. They don't have any family at all."

"That's so sad," she said, her voice shaking like she was going to cry.

"It's not so bad as all that, June. Winry decided to take the kids in—and well, when Winry decides something and gets her heart set on it, you just can't say no to her! Those kids will probably live with us for awhile, until they're able to support themselves. I'm sure you'll get another chance to play with the baby!" He laughed—June was known for being very sensitive about babies and animals.

"Oh, Al! Speaking of babies, I heard Dana Jacobs had her baby on Wednesday! I found out this morning. It's a girl!"

"Yes, I heard about that."

"Mrs. Jacobs promised she'd let me see the pictures as soon as they get them from Dana and Henry in the mail!"

Al smiled at her. "You really do get way too excited about other people's kids, June." He reached over and patted her shoulder. "I guess it just wouldn't be you if you didn't! Anyway, I have to keep an eye on those kids that just left, so I'll see you around, okay?"

"Yeah, of course. You better hurry if you want to catch up with them! They went down the road without you."

"Oh!" Al ran outside without a proper goodbye, limping because of his sprain, but trying to hurry to catch up with the surprisingly fast Erlich children.

* * *

**I can't think of much to say for this chapter, so, preview, and I'll go.**

"_So, which diner did you eat at?" Winry asked as the conversation lulled and she began to set up a pan to reheat the dinner she'd made earlier. Al hadn't eaten yet either, so she'd have been doing this even if Joli hadn't asked for more food._

_Meta looked somewhat sullen, and Eli just looked scared._

_When neither answered immediately, Al did. "They ate at Lucy's. June came up to me as we were leaving and asked me about them. Apparently she was concerned about Meta's age, and wanted to know why Joli and Meta were alone."_

"_You didn't tell her we're taking them in?" Winry asked, passing him a dismayed look._

"_Yeah… Should I not have done that?" He frowned._

"_No! Well, I mean… why June Ryder of all people? It'll be all over town in ten minutes, Al. Couldn't you have told someone a little less… chatty?

* * *

_

**Oh, wait! I do have one thing to say! I find it's very fun to invent names and histories and personalities for the residents of Resembool! Mr. Brian Jacobs and Maggie Jacobs, the slightly clueless late-fifties couple, new grandparents. And June Ryder, the sweet-bordering-on-ditzy girl who loves babies and cute, furry animals, and has to be given a job at her aunt's restaurant because she can't get one based on her own merits. I love these invented residents of Resembool and think they all deserved their fifteen minutes of fame--and, guess what else, guys? Just because Mei still sends him letters doesn't mean I'm an AlMei supporter! Could a romantic interest for Al be found among the girls in Al's hometown? *nudge nudge***


	54. Even Rural Life Gets Complicated

Ed had never realized how different Winry became when she was around children. Of course, she wasn't as obsessive as _some_ residents of Resembool that he could name, but Winry really was different.

"Your red hair is so _beautiful_," she told Joli as she pulled one silky curl straight and watched it spring back into shape. "Of course, _all_ of you is beautiful! You're going to be a little tease when you're bigger."

"Fanks," said Joli with a humble smile that showed off her perfect little white teeth. Winry picked up the three-year-old and placed the child on her hip, in a movement which she was surprisingly adept at.

Maternal instinct? Ed couldn't imagine a _man_ being able to do that right.

"You hungry, Joli?" Winry asked.

"No, she's—" Meta began.

"Yeah!" Joli said loudly.

"She already ate?" Winry queried Meta. The only thing that anyone had gotten Meta to say was her name, and information about Joli. Other than that, Meta sat in a chair at the table and watched everyone suspiciously. It was somewhat comical to see Eli and Meta sitting in chairs next to each other, both staring around at everyone. With the hair, the eyes, Meta's vaguely boyish shape and Eli's small size, they looked like twins. Meta's glasses and her long hair gave it away.

"Yeah," said Meta, "We ate at the diner a few minutes ago. If she'll eat you can feed her, though. She likes pretty much anything. Except don't give her anything with milk. She's got a mild allergy."

Winry laughed. "I don't make a lot of food with milk in it anyway." She jerked a thumb at Ed, who was sitting in a chair and had been instructed that he was not, under any circumstances, allowed to get up, _or else_. "He won't drink it."

"Yup. Hate the stuff," he put in.

Meta looked at Ed. He was pouting ever so slightly, but in _her_ opinion Ed was getting a pretty big concession, if he'd been injured barely more than a week ago. "Oh. Well, then… that's good, I guess." She fell silent.

"So, which diner did you eat at?" Winry asked as the conversation lulled and she began to set up a pan to reheat the dinner she'd made earlier. Al hadn't eaten yet either, so she'd have been doing this anyway.

When Meta and Eli didn't answer immediately, Al did. "They ate at Lucy's. June came up to me as we were leaving and asked me about them. Apparently she was concerned about Meta's age, and wanted to know why Joli and Meta were alone."

"You didn't tell her we're taking them in?" Winry asked, passing him a dismayed look.

"Yeah… should I not have done that?" He frowned.

"No! Well, I mean… why June Ryder of all people? It'll be all over town in ten minutes, Al. Couldn't you have told someone a little less… chatty?"

Al chuckled. "Sorry, Winry. I didn't think about that. Hey, look on the bright side, though: Eli, Meta, and Joli won't have to worry about finding friends if everyone knows they're here."

Winry smiled as well. "Good point." She calmly redirected Joli's hand as she reached for the pan to take some food. "And you know what else just occurred to me? They'll have to go to school, too. Meta, you're in the fourth grade, right? And Eli, sixth? Or fifth?"

"Fifth, because my birthday's late in the year."

"You guys probably won't like Resembool Primary School, if you're used to the public schools in Central," she told them.

"Why?" Ed asked. "Our education at that school was _exemplary_, Winry."

"Oh, I know," she responded. "But I think schools are set up different in Central and the north. They're more populated, too."

"That's okay, Meta and I hated our school in Central, anyway."

Winry frowned. She found it hard to imagine not liking school—she'd always enjoyed her school days, and learning, even though most of what she remembered had been after she and Ed and Al had lost their respective parents—it had been the sad part of her life, where she wasn't nearly over it, but she still had to function as if she was. Despite that, she had enjoyed her time at school, and the fact that Eli and Meta hadn't was a disappointing tribute to the North Amestrian school system.

She brought the baby to the table, then went back to get a plate and serve her food. Joli started eating immediately and with gusto, while behind Winry, Al helped himself. Her job was finished, for now, so she sat down in the empty chair across from Eli and beside Ed.

"The kid hasn't looked at me once without glaring," Ed said to her under his breath.

"Who? Eli?" She hadn't noticed that at all. Eli had been terrified of Ed ever since that moment when Ed had whispered in Eli's ear and made him drop the gun.

"No, the girl," he corrected.

"You're scared of a nine-year-old?"

"The only nine-year-old girl I've ever really had experience with was _you,_" he retorted.

"I'm a bad example," she said with a smile in her voice. "Most nine-year-old girls are fairly non-sadistic."

"Well, that explains the death glare," he said sarcastically.

"Maybe if you would stop pouting, she would…"

"Maybe if I would stop existing, she would be appeased," he spoke over her.

"I'm going to send you back upstairs and you can just be there for the next month. No more of this letting you out, if you're going to be such a brat about it."

Ed gave her a sideways smirk. "I didn't realize you had a fetish for imprisonment."

"Bondage is sexy," she deadpanned.

He snickered. "I'll keep that in mind."

"What's funny, Brother?" Al asked, in the chair on his right.

"Can't tell you," he said, trying to suppress his laughter. "There are _children_ present."

Winry punched his arm. "You're so stupid, Ed."

"Great, now I'm even _more_ curious," Al complained.

"I'll tell you later if you still want to know," Winry said. "It's stupid, though. He's overreacting. It's not that funny."

"I'll survive," Al dismissed the conversation.

"So where are the kids going to sleep?" Pinako asked as she walked into the room, wiping her greasy hands on a stained shop rag.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," Winry admitted. There really didn't seem to be enough space!

Winry's house and Ed and Al's old house had the same basic layout because they were based on the same original design. It had four bedrooms.

In the Elrics', one had been for Hohenheim and Trisha, one had been the boys' room, one had been Hohenheim's study, and the fourth had been a guest room.

In the Rockbell house, one had been Pinako's room, one had been Winry's, one had been Winry's parents', and the last one had been turned into the patient room. Since Winry's parents had died, that room had remained empty, and now it was the room which Ed and Al shared whenever they came home. Currently Winry had insisted that Ed stay in the patient room, which was more sterile—she was concerned about the risk of infection—so Al had a room to himself at the moment.

"Al, are you willing to share your room?" Pinako asked.

"Yeah, of course. If Ed wasn't injured I'd be sharing it anyway."

"And you, Winry?"

She'd never shared a room with someone before, so she actually thought a minute before answering affirmatively.

"And Meta, Eli, does Joli sleep through the night?" She was old enough that this really wouldn't have been an issue had it been one of Pinako's children, but other parents raised their kids differently so it was worth asking.

"No," Meta answered. "I mean, not because she gets hungry or anything, like a real _little _baby. But Jo-jo has nightmares sometimes, and she needs to be with me or Eli at night. She and I used to share a room in our old house."

"All right," said Pinako, "Winry, take Meta and show her where your room is. She and the baby can share with you because you're a girl and your room is bigger than the others, and Eli can share with Al. Ed, you'll probably have to stay in the patient room for longer than we expected, at least until we get things better settled." She frowned; _how would this work out long-term?_

"Hey!" Ed snapped his fingers and looked at Al. "Remember that conversation about our house? I was thinking that if we could get the right materials we could just…"

"…Right!" Al interrupted. "But we could just do that here! That's a good idea, Ed!"

Ed turned to Pinako. "How do you feel about putting an addition on your house?"

"Well, I've wanted to remodel for awhile but we don't have enough money to afford the materials and labor and everything…"

Ed clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Great, then I think we can kill two birds with one stone."

* * *

**Well, I brought up at least three domestic problems in this chapter, not counting the one I also solved (aka, housing the Erlich kids): 1, Meta and Eli's schooling; 2, Meta glaring at Ed; 3, Joli's nightmares; (oh, I thought of more than three) the sexual tension between Ed and Winry. Unfortunately, not all of these will get satisfactorily solved by the time new issues come up and new plot points of interest come up: Once the new government is fully in control of Central, (which is what's happening in Central while our heroes are in Resembool) what kind of role will Ed have as a State Alchemist? I'm toying with some ideas, such as one of the houses of the newly bicameral Parliament to be full of military officers, but if anyone else has any suggestions give them to me and I might work them in if they're good. **

**Please review! I don't own FMA. **

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"_You can't tell anyone I said this, but Meta is scared of you."_

"_Scared of me?" Ed repeated. "How come?"_

_Eli pressed his lips together nervously. "She's gonna be mad at me if she finds out I told you this…"_

"_I won't tell anyone," Ed assured him. "Why is your sister so scared of me?"_

"_Well, Meta is certain that you're still angry about… well, everything, and she thinks you're planning to kill us in our sleep… or something…" He faltered under Ed's irritated gaze. "Sorry. It's not me, it's her…"_

_Ed had to be silent for a moment just so he wouldn't scream. "I would never go so low to attack a bunch of _little kids _in their _beds_."_


	55. Meta's Fears

"Okay, Al, you ready?" Everything was set up; Ed and Al had carefully calculated everything they would need and how much of it. They stood in front of a large, somewhat stupid-looking pile of materials, which was itself on the left side of the house. Most of the side of the house had been knocked out, a task the girls had had a lot of fun with earlier that day (Ed had avoided Winry while she'd been armed with the sledgehammer—just a precaution), but the gaping hole was about to be the attachment site of a large new two-story addition to the house.

It had taken three days to gather everything they would need, and ages to convince Winry that Ed was able to transmute without hurting himself. (He'd transmuted her clothes into a tight salsa dress to make the point, in response to which she'd hit him over the head with a wrench and insisted he change them back, which he'd done while laughing hysterically.)

"Yeah," Al assured him, "I'm just repeating all the materials' compositions in my head. This is a lot of thinking."

Ed chuckled. "Okay, on the count of three: One, two, _three_!" They both put their hands together on 'two' and slammed them on the ground on 'three.'

When she saw the bright flash of light of the transmutation beginning, Joli shrank back into Eli's arms and whimpered. "Sh," he whispered in her ear. "It's just alchemy."

"Is she that scared?" Winry asked, frowning. "It's just a little light and sound."

Meta looked a little shaken too. "It's freaky."

The four were in front of the house, watching the transmutation take place—Pinako was inside, having opted to work on an automail order for a customer. Alchemy didn't impress her much. (She was like Izumi in that she thought one should do as much work as possible with one's own hands, and both were of the opinion that it built character, but Pinako was _un_like Izumi in that she wasn't inclined to dropkick anyone who disagreed with her.)

Ed and Al transmuting together meant it didn't take long at all. They stood up when it was over and looked at their handiwork, then high-fived. "Excellent. Now all we need to do is paint it," said Al.

"And put in furniture," Winry reminded him as she stepped forward to join them.

"True… We'll make _you_ do it all," Ed joked.

She withdrew a wrench from her pocket and tapped him on the head with it as a token gesture. "You're annoying."

"Let's go see how it turned out inside," Al said, and he headed to the porch.

Winry noticed Meta lean in close to Eli and murmur something in his ear. He shook his head and responded in a low voice, then she shook her head violently with her lips pressed tightly together. He sighed, passed Joli off to her (Joli was capable of standing on her own of course, but she was having an I-want-to-be-coddled moment and wouldn't let herself be put down) and stepped closer to where Winry and now Ed watched them curiously.

"No! Not right _now,_" Meta said, stopping him by grabbing his arm.

"Oh, fine. Picky," Eli accused, taking Joli back from her. "I'll wait till you're inside, how's that?"

Meta didn't answer, she just stepped around him and headed inside after Al.

"Come on, Ed," Winry complained, "Work with me here."

He shrugged away from her unnecessarily helpful hands. "I can walk on my own, Win."

Winry pressed her lips together. "I wish you wouldn't, though…"

"Don't worry about me," he told her. "Why don't you go inside and check out the addition? You can start planning what you'll do with the furniture," he suggested.

She raised an eyebrow at him, judging his condition, then apparently decided it was okay and went inside.

Eli set Joli down and told her to 'follow sissy inside', then stopped Ed before he could follow the group.

"What do you need?" Ed asked, perhaps more rudely than he intended because he was still irritated at Winry's overeagerness to help him.

"Um." Eli looked away nervously. "My sister was curious…"

"About what?" Ed crossed his arms. "Get to the point, kid."

"Well, she just asked me a minute ago… if alchemy is really hard? Because you and Alphonse just sort of clapped your hands and then 'magically' the house came together, and she wanted to know why people don't do that more often. Why don't people build buildings with alchemy all the time? And if it's because alchemy is too hard to do, how come _you_ did it so easily?"

Ed suddenly became more interested in what Eli had to say. Despite her obvious animosity for Ed, was Meta interested in alchemy? "Well, you can tell your sister that yes, alchemy is hard, and Al and I are an extenuating circumstance as far as the actual process goes—most people can't do alchemy without a transmutation circle, like we can. Also, transmuting something as big as a house is pretty complicated because the building materials are so varied. Does that answer your question?"

Eli nodded. "Um. Thanks, I guess. I'll tell her what you said."

"Why didn't she ask me herself?"

"Um, you can't tell anyone I said this, but Meta is kinda scared of you."

"Scared of me?" Ed repeated. "How come?"

Eli pressed his lips together nervously. "She's gonna be mad at me if she finds out I told you this…"

"I won't tell anyone," Ed assured him. "Why is your sister so scared of me?"

"Well, Meta is _certain_ that you're still angry about… well, everything, and she thinks you're planning to kill us in our sleep… or something…" He faltered under Ed's irritated gaze. "Sorry. It's not me, it's her…"

Ed had to be silent for a moment just so he wouldn't scream. "I would _never_ go so low to attack a bunch of _little kids_ in their _beds,_" Ed growled, then sidestepped Eli and stormed inside.

"Ed, are you okay?" Winry asked as Ed slammed the front door behind him and came stomping through the kitchen to loudly clomp up the stairs. He ignored her completely. Winry frowned and poked her head in the doorway of the new addition to speak to Al. "Ed's throwing a tantrum, I think."

Al had his head tilted at the upper level, listening to Ed's loud footsteps. "Maybe Eli accidentally called him short?" he suggested when he noticed Eli slinking through the front door a few moments later, looking disturbed and scared (he always looked a little like the latter—he had permanently terrified-looking eyebrows).

"Probably," Winry said. "Let's team up. I'll talk to Eli, you talk to Ed, then we'll compare notes."

"Can we switch jobs, Winry?"

Winry frowned in confusion. "Why?"

"Well, you're the only one who can make Ed lie down and rest, and if he needs to be talked to anyway, you might as well kill two birds with one stone. He's going to be even more of a bother about staying in bed than before, now that he's been allowed to get out to do the transmutation, and it's important that he stays still since if he's that angry he's going to want to be moving around a lot. Also, Eli likes to open up with me more than anyone else save Meta, so he'll be easy to talk to."

"Okay," Winry agreed when she saw that his reasons were solid. "_I'll_ talk to Ed."

* * *

_Tap, tap_—someone was very timidly knocking on Ed's door (well, not _his—_the door to the patient room to be exact). It was Al probably, or Winry. "Go away."

"Ed, can I come in? Please?" Yep, it was Winry.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm pouting. It won't work if you're in here." He could hear her giggling on the other side at his defiant-child voice.

"Why won't it work?"

"You're distracting." He said it uncertainly, like a question.

"I'm coming in," Winry warned, then she opened the door.

Ed was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. Pouting, just like he'd told her.

Ed sighed loudly. "Go away, Winry."

"Why?" She closed the door behind her and leaned on it, slouching. "What happened?"

"I feel like a jerk." He slumped back and laid on the bed, staring at the white ceiling. The patient bed was narrow; his neck hurt holding his head up at that angle, but he ignored it.

"How come?" she pressed.

"The kid." He waved his hand vaguely, as if that gesture added information to his answer. Then he dropped his hand—he felt somewhat lethargic, and movement was tiring. That was weird, actually. He was angry, oughtn't he be energetic? _Whatever._

Winry sighed loudly. "You're not helping."

"Don't care. Just go away."

"Why?"

"I want to be alone."

"Oh, is that all?" She pushed off from the door and came over to sit beside him on the bed. "Then I'll be alone with you, how's that?"

"No better than being alone alone."

There was a silence while Ed pouted. He wasn't so much upset that Meta was afraid of him—just that she'd thought he was capable of such a thing. It was a heavy blow to the ego—did he really come off so horrible that she thought he'd be _capable_?

After what felt like a long time, Winry looked down at Ed. "Are you done wallowing yet?"

"Nope, still pissed."

"Mm," she grunted, and became silent again. After a moment or two of sitting up like that, she got lazy and lay down next to him.

A few minutes passed. The silence rang in Winry's ears.

"Now are you ready to—?"

"No."

Another minute.

"Now?"

"Still no."

"Too bad." Winry stood up, put her hands on her hips, and stared at Ed, assessing. "All right, get up," she said presently, and she grabbed his flesh arm (not his automail, she knew she might hurt him if she pulled too hard and stretched the skin around his ports) and tugged.

"No." He went limp; Winry couldn't budge him but an inch.

"Get up."

"No."

"Dammit, Ed!" Winry flung his arm down in frustration.

"What?" He could tell by her tone that he was in trouble—_Great. Now Winry's mad at me too._

"Why do you have to be so obstinate?"

"I'm an asshole. Leave me alone."

"Stop it! No, you're not!"

"Oh yeah? Then explain to me why that little girl thinks I'm going to kill her in her sleep!"

"What?" Winry was at a loss for words. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever—"

"I _know!_" Ed sighed and tried to calm his tone. "She wanted to know about alchemy, Winry. That was what she asked Eli in the lawn. She was scared to ask me herself, so she made her brother do it. I asked Eli why she was scared of me, and that's what he told me. She thinks I'm going to hurt them. …I feel like such an ass. I can't believe I give people that impression. I mean, what's the point of even—"

"Stop it, Ed." Winry stepped forward and pulled at his arm again; this time he cooperated and sat up.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Only _you_ would get so upset," she said, shaking her head with a small smile gracing her lips. "And over the wrong thing, at that."

"What's the _right_ thing to be upset about?" he demanded.

"Well, there isn't really a right thing, I guess. But—"

"See—"

"But that's not the point I'm trying to make," Winry continued over him, sighing loudly to point out her annoyance at his attempted interruption. "You're upset _why_? She has a valid reason to be afraid of you, albeit an incorrect one. Just because it's something you would never do doesn't mean you're the only person in the world like that. Try to understand where she's coming from, Ed: Not only does she have to come to terms with the fact that her father just died—which is bad enough as is—she also just realized that without her father, there was no one in the world who wanted her. It's a hard blow to the ego of someone so young. So imagine how confused she must be that people who by all rights should hate her guts are taking her in and treating her like family. She must be the most confused little girl on the planet, Ed."

Ed frowned and tried to follow the explanation. "I guess that's a lot to have on your mind," he ceded, "but how do you know she's even really _feeling_ all this, Winry? I mean, it's not like she talks to anyone but Eli."

Winry cast her eyes downward. "I don't know if it's my place to tell, but… Every night Meta's slept in my room, I've heard her crying. She has nightmares, she cries in her sleep. I can't imagine how it must be to sleep so fitfully, and then wake up every morning so early in the morning and take on all that responsibility with Joli… She must be exhausted."

Ed sighed. "I feel so bad for her now. Guilty, I suppose… My situation was so different from hers—I can't really compare, I guess."

"You didn't grieve for your father," Winry pointed out.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Don't bring _that_ guy up. There was no reason to 'grieve' for him—he tore our family apart, Winry, I hated him."

"I know," Winry sighed. "It worries me, actually."

"What, that I don't give a shit?"

"Yeah, Ed, that's not normal!"

"Winry, there are people who deserved to be mourned… Nina, Hughes. My father just wasn't one of them, at least not to me."

"I hate that, you know."

Ed smiled and ruffled her hair as he stood up. "You don't have to worry about me, Winry. I may not be mourning my dad like you want me to, but I still know how to be nice to people who _are_ mourning their losses."

Winry stood up as well, when she realized that he was ready to go back downstairs. "So you're not going to pout all day like you planned?"

Ed tapped her shoulder lightly with his left fist to indicate that he got the joke. "Nope, I've changed my mind. I'm gonna go downstairs and be real nice to her until she realizes I'm not going to hurt her."

"And then what?" Winry quipped. "As soon as she decides you're nice, you're going to be a jerk to her?"

"Ha, ha. You're not really that funny."

"You thought the 'bondage is sexy' thing was funny the other day."

"That _was_ funny. Hey, now that I'm thinking of it, aren't you going to force me to lie down? Knock a wrench in my skull or something?"

"I don't know, would that work?" Winry asked. "I figured you were going to ignore me anyway, so it's no use wasting words."

"Your undying confidence in my ability to take care of myself is reassuring."

Winry rolled her eyes. "You're not cute, Ed. Where's my wrench…?" She started patting her body as if searching for it.

"No, no, no, no!" Ed said nervously. "That's not necessary, Win."

"Oh, so you'll be getting back into bed of your own accord?" Her voice couldn't have sounded more innocent.

"Um. After I go apologize to Eli for being short with him earlier?"

"Fine, but I'm going to hunt up a wrench if you're not speedy, Ed."

He shook his head with a falsely mournful expression. "Wow, Winry. You know, you're not cute at all, either."

* * *

Ed went downstairs and took Eli aside to apologize. It was awkward, so he tried to make it as short as possible.

"Look, I'm sorry I was kind of a jerk earlier. You caught me by surprise with that comment and I got unnecessarily upset."

"Um. Um." Eli was at a loss for words.

Ed chuckled and patted Eli's shoulder. "I know how you feel. Hey, you know you've got real skinny arms?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm built small. That's why everybody thinks Meta is my twin, 'cause they think I'm a nine-year-old."

"Well, you should build your muscles," Ed said simply. "It's not hard."

Eli rolled his eyes. "You make it sound so simple," he muttered as he dismissed himself by walking away.

"Wow, you look like you're really bonding with him," Winry commented, joining him.

"He's a fun little kid," Ed said lightly. "He's short, like I was."

"Was?" she repeated doubtfully.

"Pardon? What's that?" Ed rested his elbow on her shoulder to make a point about how much taller he was than her. "Sorry, Win, I can't hear you from all that way down there."

"All right, you've made your point." She poked his stomach, being careful of his bandages, and shrugged his arm away from her shoulder. "Anyway, I'm a girl, so at least I have a right to be short. _You_ had no excuse."

"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed as he sidestepped her to head out of the kitchen, "you don't have to tell _me_ you're a girl." This last part was so quiet she could hardly be sure that that was what he'd said, and she certainly doubted it because it made no sense! Unless… okay, so _that_ was something to think about… Was he saying he'd _noticed_?

"Hey, Ed, aren't you going upstairs? That's what you told me…"

"No, there's one more thing I have to do."

"Ed, come on!" she protested. "You act like nothing is wrong, but I saw that injury myself! And I know you haven't been taking the painkillers they gave you. How can you possibly be telling me it doesn't hurt?"

"It does, Win, but you're underestimating me. I'm fine for now. And it's just one more little thing I have to do. After that I'll lie down like a good boy and suck down all the nasty antibiotics just like you want—I promise."

"You don't have to be so condescending when you talk to me," she said, pouting a little as she walked away (she'd left a cup of tea on the kitchen counter).

Ed went through the kitchen (which was essentially the center of the house) into the new wing and located Meta, who was sitting on the floor playing with Joli and some little wooden dolls and furniture that Joli had been allowed to take when they'd left their house. Eli was sitting with them, but he wasn't doing much of anything because he'd just sat down.

"Meta?"

The girl looked up and pressed her lips tightly together when she saw who it was. "Yes?"

"Would you come with me for a minute? Outside?"

"Um." She looked at her brother. "Eli…?"

"…Can peer out the window and watch us the whole time if he wants to."

Eli gave her a go-find-out-what-he-wants look, so Meta stood. "Okay, then."

"So, I heard from your brother that you were curious about alchemy," Ed said by way of introduction as he led her outside and down the road.

"How far are we going?" she asked.

"Just down to that little trio of trees there." He pointed. "Anyway. Alchemy?"

"Yeah, I… thought what you and Alphonse did was really neat."

"You wanted to know how complicated it is?"

"Um… yeah."

They stopped in front of the trees Ed had pointed to earlier. "Alchemy isn't really that hard if you know what you're doing, but it takes a lot of study to perfect. Al and I have been doing it since we were very small.

"The basic idea is very simple: The basis of alchemy is 'equivalent exchange.' You must give something in order to get something in return. The difficult part is in the fact that you have to know the composition of what you have in order to transmute it into something else. For example," here he reached up to one of the trees and snapped off a dry stick, "a piece of wood. Cellulose, lignin, hemicelluloses, and 5-10% of a few other things. Mostly made up of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen, which is why wood is such good fuel for burning. Now watch." He bent down to the ground and set the stick in the dirt, then drew a transmutation circle with his finger and put his hand to it. It glowed for a few seconds, then when the light ceased and Meta was able to see again, it had changed into a little wooden armchair of the same proportions as Joli's other little toys.

"Oh!" said Meta, and she reached out to pick it up despite herself. "Can I give this to her?"

Ed smiled. "Sure. You can go give it to her right now. That's really all I wanted to show you."

"Um…" Meta held the little chair carefully, as if afraid to break it. "Um. Thank you." She said it like a question.

"You're welcome."

* * *

**This 'monster' chapter was originally three shot ones, and since they're all related I thought I'd just merge them. A lot's happening in this one, and I can't really go into as much detail on every bit, but...yeah.**

**So, guess what? The twins (my little sisters Samantha and Stephanie, off of whom Joli is vaguely--_very_ vaguely, though they share a haircolor-- based) are having their third birthday party today! So that's my other excuse for this chapter, which is TEH (purposeful typo!) LONGEST I'VE POSTED FOR THIS STORY SO FAR. I hope I get lots of reviews for this one, what with all the stuffz there is to talk about. **

**This chapter represents somewhat of a turning point in the Meta-Ed dynamic--I explained how Meta starts to somewhat idolize him, and this one is mainly focused around Meta, even though she has surprisingly few lines in this one. She's not one to talk a lot, unless you're talking about something interesting to her--such as Joli's well-being; Meta _never_ ignores a question if it's about her baby sister--or, as we'll find later after she starts school at Resembool Primary, alchemy (which I've decided that third, fourth and fifth-graders have a unit on in school--because honestly, even if most Amestrians can't do alchemy, they ought to at least have learned about it in school! That'd be like us not learning physics and chemistry--ridiculous, right? Even elementary-schoolers understand 'what goes up must come down.') So this chapter was pretty Meta-centered. **

**I'm making a really big point to myself about not letting the OCs even come CLOSE to eclipsing the main characters in this story! I've seen a lot of reader interest in the Erlich kids, so I'm trying to develop the children's characters while keeping the spotlight on Ed and Winry (which is pretty much the focus of this fic, as you'll surely have gathered) and it's becoming fairly difficult to do both, so I had to somewhat change my method to 'focus on one aspect, okay, done, now focus on the other,' and of course the focus of this one is, as I've already said, Meta.**

**Soon I'll be introducing another OC, kind of a spacey-poet type, whom I am really enjoying having in my head, however, she needs a name! If any of my reviewers want to put some input, that'd be appreciated--though I'm leaning pretty heavily on naming her Luna (not only is this the name for the chemical symbol which represents silver in alchemy, so it's relevant to FMA in a way, and furthermore Luna means 'moon' so it seems to fit with the spaciness of the character, but it's also a smartass reference to Luna Lovegood from HP, who is similarly spacey). What say the readers?**

* * *

**Next chapter: This was mentioned briefly in earlier chapters, but Ed never did tell Al and WInry about his fatal injury when Kimblee belw up the tower. How will they react?**

_"I had to use alchemy to seal the wound, and then luckily Kimblee's chimeras turned on him and took me to a doctor to __really make sure everything was all right."_

_"You used alchemy to seal it," Winry repeated flatly._

_"But that's impossible. I mean, Mei did that with Scar's gunshot wound, but that was with Xingese _healing_ alchemy," Al continued, "and Kimblee was able to do it with the Philosopher's Stone, but that was the _Philosopher's Stone._ Those were both extenuating circumstances. There's no way you can just—" He stopped midsentence and stared at his brother, slackjawed. "No. No. No. Oh my God, Ed, you _didn't._"_


	56. Scars

As per his promise to Winry, (who was getting agitated at Ed's apparent inability to stay still and just _rest_) Ed headed upstairs after his little chat with Meta. She'd run off looking as scared as she had as she'd followed him out, but Ed couldn't help but feel like he'd made progress.

He'd been heading to the patient room to lie down, but he'd passed Winry's room and, upon realizing she was in there, had decided to peek in and alert her that he was heading to his room, so she'd know exactly how long he'd been lying down for. "Hey, Win, I—what are you doing?" He changed his sentence midway when he saw her peering intently at herself in the mirror that hung on the wall in her room.

"Um, nothing," she responded, turning to look at him. Ed realized she had removed the little square patch of bandage that she'd worn ever since _that night._ "I was just looking… at my cut, I mean." She turned away and stared at herself in the mirror again. "I can't help being a little paranoid that it's going to leave a scar…"

"Oh, is that all?" Ed walked into the room and stood a few feet behind her. "But you shouldn't be worried about scars, Winry. Scars aren't that bad. Think of them as proof that you've done something that even your own skin wants to remember."

She smiled in spite of herself. "That's so stupid, it's funny."

"That's what I'm here for, right?"

"Say, Ed—now that I'm thinking about it, you never did tell me about that other scar you have on your stomach. It looked old, but pretty gruesome."

"Um." Ed hesitated. "I _want_ to tell you, but you're going to get mad at me."

"Well, judging by the nature of the scar I had figured as much. Tell me, Ed…" She paused a second, then added, "Please."

Ed sighed heavily. "Okay, but, um, sit down." He gestured to the bed, which was the only form of seating in Winry's room, and it was somewhat annoying to get to, considering the two pallets of blankets that had been laid out on the floor for Meta and Joli to sleep the past four days.

"Why do I have to sit down?" Winry asked as she obeyed.

"Because I think you're going to freak out."

"Okay." She looked at him expectantly.

Ed sighed and frowned, trying to think of a gentle way to explain, and coming up with nothing of much use._ Oh well, might as well just get it over with._ "You remember Kimblee, who brought you to Briggs to fit me with the cold-weather automail? I had to explain to you that he was… was keeping you hostage…" Ed clenched his fists at the memory. "Well, after Major Armstrong (the new Fuhrer, I mean… not Alex) got sent to Central and Al went out in the blizzard to warn you guys not to come to Fort Briggs, Kimblee realized that we were plotting against him, and he attacked me. I took out his chimeras, knocked his Philosopher's Stone away, and cut one of his hands so the circles on his palms wouldn't work, so I thought I'd had him beaten—but then he pulled another Stone from his mouth and blew up the whole building I was in."

Winry's gasp interrupted him. "Oh, my God."

"When I came to, after the explosion, I realized I had been fatally injured. A steel beam, right though here." He gestured to the place on his stomach where Winry knew there was a scar.

"But… you were okay? How? I don't understand… That sounds fatal." The tone of her voice indicated that she was upset but hadn't worked up to crying yet.

"It _was _fatal."

"_What?_"

"I had to use alchemy to seal the wound, and then luckily Kimblee's chimeras turned on him and took me to a doctor to _really_ make sure everything was all right."

"You used alchemy to seal it," Winry repeated flatly.

"But that's impossible." When had Al appeared in the doorway? Had he listened to the whole story? "I mean, Mei did that with Scar's gunshot wound, but that was with Xingese healing alchemy," he continued, "and Kimblee was able to do it with the Philosopher's Stone, but that was the _Philosopher's Stone_. Those were both extenuating circumstances. There's no way you can just—" Al stopped midsentence and stared at his brother, slackjawed. "No. No. No. Oh my God, Ed, you _didn't._"

"He didn't what?" Winry leaned forward and extended a hand as if to grab him from across the room.

Al saved her the trouble by running over and seizing his brother (who had stood up just then) by the shoulders. "Ed, tell me you didn't!"

There was no way Ed could kid himself that Al hadn't figured it out. He dropped his eyes to the ground. "I had to… There were no other options, Al."

"You don't know what could happen!" Al was now literally shaking him. "Are you insane?"

"What are you talking about?" Winry was crying now—_of course._

"There was _no other option_! I was going to _die_, Al, try to understand that!"

"I do understand, Ed, but couldn't you have thought a little more long-term? Heck, you might die unexpectedly tomorrow for all we know! _How could you have done something so reckless?"_

"Tomorrow? What are you talking about?" Winry tried desperately to make them listen to her, but neither brother spared her a glance.

"_Long-term,_ Al? If I didn't heal that injury right that second, there wasn't going to _be_ a _long-term_!"

"So you used your own _life energy_ to seal the wound, Ed? That's reckless even for _you!_"

"I HAD NO CHOICE!"

"THERE'S _ALWAYS_ A CHOICE!"

"ED! AL! STOP THIS, RIGHT NOW!"

Everyone turned to look at Pinako, who was standing in the doorway, flanked by a curious and concerned Eli and Meta.

"Grandma…"

"Granny, I…"

"Both of you boys should be ashamed of yourselves—screaming like this at the only brother you've got."

"Granny, you don't understand. Ed—"

"Cannot change whatever it is you're bellowing at him about, Alphonse." Al faltered, then looked back at Ed, who still had his head down, staring at the ground.

"Damn it," Al muttered, and released Ed's shoulders. "I… I'm sorry, Brother."

"I'm sorry more, Al… believe me."

"I… you all…" Winry stuttered. She started bodily pushing Ed and Al out of the room, forcing Pinako, Meta, and Eli to move if they didn't want to get ran over. "Everyone out of my room," she explained as she shut the door in their faces and turned away—as if they could see her tears flowing through the wood of the door.

"Shouldn't someone…?" Meta asked, pointing at the closed door to make it obvious what she meant.

"She kicked us out," Eli responded. "Clearly she doesn't want us in there, bothering her."

Meta rolled her eyes. "You don't know a damn thing about women, Brother. You," she pointed at Ed, "Go back in there and calm her down."

"Why me?" Ed asked. "I'm the one who got her in this state in the first place."

"Precisely," she shot back. "I get the feeling you don't know anything about women either."

"I do, too!"

"No, actually, you're right," Al interrupted. "He's gone five years without noticing…" Al made a gesture at the door, and then at Ed, indicating Winry's obvious attraction to him.

"Oh my God, you're kidding?" Meta giggled, looking incredulously at Al, then Ed. "You're more clueless than Brother, I'd bet!"

Ed clenched his fists. "I'm not clueless! Whatever you girls are giggling about, it's not true." Al rolled his eyes at the 'you girls' comment, while Ed's statement made Meta giggle harder. "Stop it!" Ed insisted. "You're so annoying."

"Oh, _fine,_ spoilsport," Meta said, sobering. She pointed at Winry's door again. "Go."

Ed folded his arms stubbornly. "No. Why should I?"

("Why does he have to have an argument with a nine-year-old whose intellect is so clearly above his?" asked Al in an aside to Pinako and Eli.)

"Because I said so and you don't know anything and it's your fault she's like this anyway!" Meta snapped back at Ed.

"Those are stupid little-kid reasons!" Ed shouted when he couldn't think of a more intelligent argument to throw at her.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO YOUNG SHE'S STILL IN DIAPERS THAT HAVE TO BE CHANGED BY HER MOMMY!"

("She's always been sensitive about her age," Eli remarked to Pinako and Al. "She wants people to treat her like an adult. I think it started some time when she was around six years old."

"It's like watching Ed and a younger, female version of him," Pinako noted.

"Meta likes milk, though," Al contradicted.

"There is that," she conceded.)

"THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO REASON WHY I, SPECIFICALLY, SHOULD HAVE TO GO," Ed was shouting. (Without looking at them, he pointed to Al, Pinako, and Eli. "I can hear every word you're saying—you suck at whispering."

"How do you know we didn't want you to hear?" Eli asked to confuse him.)

"YOU'LL GO BECAUSE I JUST VOLUNTEERED YOU!" Meta shouted back at Ed.

"HOW CAN I BE _INVOLUNTARILY_ VOLUNTEERED? THAT MAKES NO SENSE," Ed screamed down at her. The screaming was less an expression of anger by now; more like an expression of We're-stuck-in-this-decibel-level.

"JUST GO," Meta ordered as she opened the door and bodily shoved Ed into Winry's room, slamming it behind him.

"I HATE LITTLE KIDS," Ed shouted, thumping on the closed door with his fist for emphasis.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO YOUNG SHE ISN'T ALLOWED TO CROSS THE STREET WITHOUT HOLDING THE HAND OF A 'BIG KID'!!"

("Is he going to be able to instantly calm down and talk to her?" Eli asked, staring at the door.

"My brother has mood swings," Al said. "He'll be fine in four seconds. Count down if you want.")

In her head, Meta actually did so, and lo—at the end of four seconds, she heard Ed's voice, muffled through the wood, but definitely not shouting. "Success," she muttered to herself as she walked away, followed by Al, who was heading to his own room to quietly try to come to terms with his latest discovery about Ed, and Eli, who was thinking about lunch.

* * *

"Winry," Ed said to get the attention of the girl who was laying facedown on her bed with her face buried in the pillow. She looked like she had thrown herself on top of it and then proceeded to become motionless.

"Oh? Remembered me, have you? Done yelling at little girls in the hallway?"

"Winry…"

"Didn't I kick you out once?" she continued coldly. "Looks like you didn't get the message."

"Meta said that too."

"I could care less what _Meta said_."

"No, I mean… she called me clueless."

"You_ are_ clueless. Tell me, was Al right? When he jumped to that conclusion, was he right? Did you use _your own life energy_ to heal your wound?"

"Well… yeah, that's basically it."

"So what does that mean for you, Ed?" She lifted her head to look at him.

"There's no way to really know." He met her accusing blue eyes with apologetic gold ones.

"He said, you might drop dead tomorrow." She pressed her lips together and looked down; Ed could tell this fear was the root of the problem.

"He was exaggerating, but there _is_ the chance that my lifespan has been shortened because of that alchemy. Believe me; this won't matter for forty or fifty years yet."

"Well, I guess I'll have to get upset in forty or fifty years." She ducked her face into the pillows again and was quiet.

"So, Win, what's still bugging you?"

"You're not in bed yet. You told me you were going to go to bed ages ago, and yet here you are, in completely the wrong room for it."

"Your bed is nicer than the patient bed, anyway. I should commandeer this one."

"How are you going to manage that? I'm still _in_ it."

"That's easy enough to solve." Ed grabbed her elbow and pulled, forcing her to sit up and participate in a little tug-of-war. Winry lost and she lurched forward off of the bed, catching herself with precarious balance before she could hit the floor. Ed continued pulling on her arm and he caught her when she stumbled into him.

"I win."

"Yeah, big deal. I _never_ win."

"You used to win when we were little." Another thing he remembered from _that night._

Winry snorted. "When we were _five,_ maybe."

"Well, will it help if I apologize for being better at this game?"

"Not really. I'll still be mad at you. You could try anyway, though."

"No thanks. I have to claim my prize anyway." Ed released Winry and stepped around her to go sit triumphantly on her bed, smirking.

"You thief," she accused.

"And proud of it," he grinned.

"What are the odds I can win if I pull your arm long enough to tire you out?" Winry seized his wrist to continue the tug-of-war, but Ed braced himself well and it didn't seem as if he was really exerting any effort at all. When he felt her start to lose energy, Ed capitalized on her weakness and gave her wrist a good hard tug, causing her to topple over.

"No!" she lamented when she realized she'd lost. "It's not fair!"

"It _is_ fair. I'm stronger, therefore I win every game of strength. All right, get off of me." This was getting uncomfortable, and not just because of the part of him that was wrapped in bandages—no, _this_ annoyance was coming from somewhere a little more southern.

"What for? I'm going to lose every time. I might as well stay in the loser's spot." Ed's lap.

"The loser's spot is no longer open to you. You'll have to lose again to re-earn it."

"Why would anyone want to earn something by losing? That's so… counterproductive."

"Well, when you win you won't have to earn the loser's spot anymore," Ed said as he tried to squirm away.

"Where are you going?"

_Away, before you notice anything _unusual _about me_. "Were you not just trying to get me _out_ of the bed?"

"Yes, but haven't you just expended all this effort to keep your little 'throne'? And now you're just going to run off—_what_?"

"I'm abdicating, that's what."

"You're weird,_ that's_ what."

* * *

**xDDD**

***giggles hysterically***

***continues giggling for several minutes while the readers (the sane ones) look in with raised eyebrows and the other readers (the insane ones comme moi) ROTFL right along with me***

**Omigod! You guys have NO idea how much fun this chapter was to write. Pretty much the back 2/3 of it was compeltely written for comic relief--which I did because otherwise it would have been MEGA angsty. Meta proves Winry's not the only chick with the balls to fight with Ed and win, while Ed finds out how little control he has over his body where Winry's concerned (xD *breaks down giggling again*) I also loved that we're stuck in this decibel level bit. Because when you're dealing with kids (teenagers in Ed's case) that age, that really does happen.

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**

**Next chapter: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF OMIGOD MEGA FLUFF. You're gonna love it. Also, Winry gets a cameo in the closing AN of next chapter! Ed decides to finally give up on getting his arm and leg back, therefore making himself a permanent customer of Rockbell Automail. And Winry gets the kiss she'd imagined when she described it to Ed in Chapter 52, "Amestris's Biggest Jackass Award."**

**Chapter 58, Winry registers the Elrich children for school. (What problems will Meta and Eli face as newcomers to rural life? Later chapters will go into detail about how Meta and Eli deal with peers--and learning--differently) Al witnesses something strange in the playground as he's walking home. It seems to be one of those days where oddity attracts him, because before he gets home, in Chapter 59 he comes across the eccentric Luna Helena "Moon Princess" Sisley Turner, who reconfirms what he's already deduced about Ed and Winry--and in a fairly unorthodox way, at that.  
**


	57. Midnight Ideas and Wasted Words

**This chapter seems weird, as if it doesn't flow with the plot so far! This occurs the night after last chapter--and by after I mean not THAT night, but the following night. Aka, one day has passed! **

**Ed explains this all in the chapter you're about to read (assuming you don't just skip right to the non-bolded parts!), but basically the point of this chapter is that Ed was unable to sleep right and just **_**had**_** to waken Al and tell him what was on his mind. More about this at the closing AN, once you've read and I don't have to worry about spoiling you on it.

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"_Al! Al! Wake up!" _

How many times had Al heard this voice, saying those words? Only a few hundred million. Midnight risings; Ed's voice, excited to show his little brother whatever new tidbit of information he'd discovered, colored Al's childhood memories.

"_What'd you find, Brother?" _

"_Look at this array!" _

The lights were always already on when Al opened his eyes and tried to blink back the painful glow.

"_Al, look here—these symbols are different than the ones we were looking at last night! There—see? Luna is facing the wrong direction!" _

"_Really? Wow, let me see!"_

And there it was—the crescent moon symbol for silver, "Luna," was turned in the wrong direction, representing a chemical alteration of the metal. Ed never made a mistake when it came to these things.

Never a mistake until the fatal transmutation, of course. The last thing he'd seen before he'd been face-to-face with Truth had been Ed's horrified expression, reaching and calling for his brother back.

The most terrifying memory of his life so far, _by_ far.

All these good memories and bad memories, mixed up, and tied to that one innocent sentence:

"Al! Al! Wake up!"

"What is it, Ed? Keep your voice down, you'll wake up Eli."

"I'm already awake," came the groan from the floor.

Al sighed. "Well, all right. What do you need, Ed?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

"What?"

"Okay, well, I was lying awake—I couldn't sleep—and I was thinking about going back to Central once Fuhrer Armstrong and the military gets more control over the terrorists. I was just thinking about the research we were going to do, and a thought occurred to me: Why am I doing this?"

"Because you want your body back."

"Yeah, but _why? _There are loads of people missing limbs—Winry and Pinako deal with them every day. Why should I be the only person in the world who is exempt from the rule of live and let live?"

"Anybody who wants to do the research that we do is free to look for ways to restore themselves, Brother. It's not _just_ you."

"And _why_ do I want to restore myself? It comes back to this basic point—my body is _functional_. It's not like with you—it's not like we have the nagging fear of soul rejection in _my_ case. I am perfectly capable of living my life without ever getting those limbs back. And honestly, Al—how many times has this arm saved my hide? More than I can count, I'm sure! So really, this automail has come in useful, despite all the bad things about it. I'll be okay with keeping it."

"You're giving up," Al translated.

"Are you okay with that?"

Al pinched the bridge of his nose between this thumb and forefinger. "Why couldn't this have waited until morning, Brother?"

"Honestly," Eli emphasized tiredly, still buried under his blankets. "This is so _not_ urgent news."

"Are you mad at me? For quitting, I mean. Are you okay with that?" Ed repeated. "I need to know."

"Gimme a minute." Silence. "No, I can't think about this until morning." He rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ed responded.

"Good. Go away," Eli grumbled.

Ed _went away_—he had one other person to talk to.

* * *

"Winry?" It wasn't completely dark in her room, because the window to the balcony shot the blue cast of night across the room. Meta and Joli hadn't slept in here tonight—their beds had already been set up in the new wing—but Eli's was going to get set up in the morning, so he was still sleeping on Al's floor.

"Ed? What are you doing up at this hour?" She poked her head in from the balcony.

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, joining her on the balcony.

"I asked first."

"I couldn't sleep. I had to wake up and tell Al what just occurred to me, and then I was going to wake you up, too."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't realize I was on the midnight wake-up call list."

"Do you want me to take you off?"

"Of course not," she said quickly. "I'm honored to be on it, Ed. So what was it that you wanted to tell me and Al?"

"That I don't want to leave home anymore."

"You mean you don't want to continue to try to get your arm and leg back." They both were leaning on the railing, staring at the stars.

"Yeah." Ed glanced over at her briefly. "How do you feel about that?"

"How did Al feel?"

"I asked him—this is something I don't want to take lightly, and I want him to be forewarned—but all he would say is that he wanted to go back to sleep."

"Well, that's good."

"Yes. If Al had gotten up straight away and started yelling at me, I would have known he disapproved. He basically gave me the a-okay by going back to sleep. So, Winry… back to you. I want to know what you think, as well."

"I've never had a problem with you having automail, Ed," she reminded him. "It was always you and Al who were dissatisfied with your lot."

"So you're not mad at me, either."

"As long as you're really doing what you think is best."

"I do."

"And you're not going to change your mind in the morning?"

Ed paused and really thought before he answered. "No."

She draped her arm over his shoulders, smiling. "Then that's all that matters."

There was a short silence, then both of them spoke at once: "You didn't tell me why you were awake." "So, are you ever going to explain why you ran out on me earlier this afternoon?"

"Answer mine first," Winry insisted.

Ed shook his head. "No."

"No?"

"I mean, that's your answer. 'Are you ever going to explain?' No, I'm not going to explain."

"Oh." She paused and frowned. "Okay, so you want your answer now?"

"Yeah. What kept you up so late?"

"You're going to think it's stupid, actually."

"We've known each other long enough that stupid doesn't matter."

"Yeah." She hesitated. "I had a… bad dream, it woke me up."

"What was it about?" Ed prompted curiously when she didn't elaborate right away. What kinds of bad dreams would _Winry_ have?

She sighed. "You're gong to laugh at me so hard," she muttered. "I dreamed that I woke up and you and Al were gone. That happens so often, you know… I never get to say a proper goodbye. But in this dream, I knew you were never coming back. Dream senses, I guess. It was so upsetting that I woke up… And then I came out to the balcony… I don't know why. I guess to watch and make sure you guys don't leave without saying goodbye."

"You weren't going to stand out here watching all night, were you?"

"I don't know what I was going to do. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet." She stared at the road some more, and there was a silence. After a moment she looked over at Ed. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

"No," he said seriously. "I'm trying to figure out what to say."

"How's it coming?"

"Not well," he responded with a smile in his voice.

"Well, maybe you can say something unrelated to that, and when you think of something out of _espirit d'escalier_ you can tell me."

"Well, what else should I say?"

"You could tell me why you ran out on me earlier," she hinted.

He shook his head. "Still no."

Winry elbowed him in the ribs. "Why not? I won't laugh at you—_you _didn't laugh at _me_."

He shook his head again. "This isn't about laughing, Win. I think you're going to want something even heavier than a wrench if I tell you why."

"Pleeease?"

"No."

"Ed!"

"If you keep bugging me about it I'm going to leave."

"Don't do that!" she said quickly. When he looked over and passed her a funny look, she elaborated: "I'm enjoying the company."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't understand why the secrecy," Winry said after a minute.

…Secrets.

"_You keep secrets; you go off to dangerous places without telling me! Yet somehow you expect me to faithfully follow at your heels, do whatever you say, and wait patiently at home for you to rush in and save the day! What am I to you, Ed? Really!" She raised the gun and held it to her temple._

"_Wait, wait, what are you doing? Winry, listen—I'm sorry! Please don't do this!"_

"_I love you," she whispered. "Always have." _

_And then she pulled the trigger.  
_

Ed shook his head to clear his mind of the memory.

"Ed? What was _that_?"

"What was what?" What had she noticed?

"You just looked at me with this weird expression, then you kind of… gave a strange suffocated squeak and… That was weird, Ed. What were you thinking of just then?"

"It's… um. I'm not going to get away with saying 'nothing,' am I?"

"No, you're not."

"And you're going to keep bugging me about earlier?"

"Well, until you follow through with your threat and leave, I guess… yeah."

Ed sighed. There was just no way to explain that wouldn't grate on her nerves! Only one idea kept reoccurring, and _that_ one was no use at all. "I… can't… explain." He turned to leave the balcony, but Winry's hand grabbing his wrist stopped him before he was inside.

"Ed, tell me what's got you so flustered. You're making me nervous."

"I can't."

"Try." She pulled him back towards herself.

"I just can't. You don't understand." But he didn't resist the gentle tugging as she pulled him forward.

"Please, Edward. Try to explain it." Her free hand cupped the side of his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"You can't… get mad at me, but…" Ed stepped forward until there was no space between them at all. His voice was horribly stilted; every thought took a herculean effort to voice. "Maybe I can… show you… what I mean. If that's okay? No, wait, what am I doing? I should leave, I'm sorry…"

"Shut up," Winry murmured before she kissed him.

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**Okay, now that that's over, I can elaborate on what I wanted to say in the opening AN. Basically what's going in here is that Ed has had time to observe the Erlich children and he's come to some conclusions about how he feels about Resembool, childhood, and stability. He doesn't really understand why this just popped into his head all of a sudden, but what's really going on is that the idea of the Erlich kids living and growing up in Resembool has introduced this idea of staying at home into his mind and he realizes that what he really needs after four, almost five years on the road**_** is**_** stability. And although Ed doesn't understand it enough to put it into words, he has been able to come to the conclusion that what he wants right now is to give up on questing for his limbs back, which is close enough, considering that either way this leads Ed to the same conclusion, which is that he wants to stay home in Resembool. **

**We'll see that eventually he won't be able to stay home constantly if he wants to retain his job as a state alchemist, he'll be occasionally sent on missions, but for the moment Ed's main focus can be on life at home!**

**In case anyone was confused (and I dunno if anyone even noticed) --_Espirit d'escalier_ is a French phrase meaning, literally, 'wit of the staircase,' referring to the way you always seem to think of the perfect thing to say after the time to say it is over. There's no equivalent phrase in English, and I didn't want Winry to have to say a huge long sentence in explanation of something that can be explained in only two words if you put it in French.  
**

**Now, on to that kiss! I think it is best talked about from Winry's perspective: **

Wow, I finally get a cameo in the AN? This is cool. Anyway, I'm supposed to be talking about that kiss on the balcony, aren't I? Well, yes, that was what I originally imagined when I imagined my first kiss with Ed. I explained this to him, and consequently you: I thought that he'd be too indecisive about it, and I'd have to force him to make the decision.

Hey, by the way, this dummyhead author tried to make me tell Ed, "You talk too much," but I had to smack her on the head in her sleep and say, "This is Ed we're talking about! You know, that guy who bugs the hell out of me most days? How could you make me sound so _polite_?" So the author succumbed to my annoyed protests and made me say the much more appropriate "Shut up."

He never did answer my question though, did he? I wanted to know why he was looking at me funny when I mentioned "secrecy," and I wanted to know why he "abdicated" (That was a pretty funny word choice!) that afternoon. But Ed didn't explain either of those things! And I didn't understand why him kissing me would have anything to do with those questions! And I think the author knew, because she wouldn't let me read Chapter 56, and I am almost certain that that's because the answer is in that chapter! I keep trying to connect them in my mind... ditching me in the afternoon plus kissing me at midnight, how could those possibly be connected? Unless... well, what if he ditched me because he _wanted_ to kiss me? That certainly sounds an awful lot like the kind of thing Ed would do! I shall have to explore this theory in greater detail! Later, when I'm not supposed to be providing you information. I'll think about this when I lay down in bed after Ed leaves, as I'm lying awake, too riled to go to sleep just yet.

Oh, and in closing, the author does not own me or the manga from whence I came, she merely writes for her own enjoyment (and mine. I wish EVERY chapter involved me and Ed sucking face, excuse my bluntness. o///o Hey, forgive me--I'm a hormonal teenage girl! Guys aren't the only ones who get overexcited, y'know!) Anyway, the author loves reviews! (I love reviews about how much you readers love me. I like feeling special. =D)

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**And the preview!**

_Ed groaned loudly as Winry told him all about June picking the kids up to play with her own little brothers at the playground. "June gets _way _too excited about babies. It's not natural. Ever since elementary school I've been sure she was going to get pregnant at fifteen and have to marry whatever poor loser did it. It's just her personality, you know?"_

_"But she's not fifteen anymore," Winry pointed out._

_"Guess she's in the free and clear then," Ed said sarcastically, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smirk. "Anyway, enough about June; she's insufferable. Where are you going, anyway?"_

_"I'm going to enroll Eli and Meta in school."

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_**I've already mentioned this, that Winry is sending the Erlichs to school, so sadly this preview tells you little to nothing you didn't already know. Even more sadly, next chapter is fairly filler-ish, but it's got a lot of important chapters following it, which it sets up for. For one, Chapter 58 puts Al in the right place for the conversation he's going to have in Chapter 59, and for two, it establishes the fact that Meta and Eli are going to go to school in Resembool, which occurs in Chapter 60 (though we don't see the 'aftermath' of Meta and Eli's first day of school until Chapter 61... possibly. I confess I haven't laid down that chapter in cement yet.) So basically, next chapter sucks in its own right, but is fairly necessary. Look forward to 59 because I'm loving the OC I introduced in that chapter. And look forward to 60 because Ed gets the a-okay from Winry to leave the patient room permanently--he's off imprisonment! ('Imprisonment': Ed's word.) **

**As Winry mentioned above, I don't own FMA. Please review! (Winry: **Reviews about _me!_ Or how unbelievably close Ed got to f'ing up that kiss--I rescued him, AS USUAL.** =D)  
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	58. Playground Games

**I just got review number 100! Thank you, Catching Rain, as well as all my other hundred reviewers--I appreciate it! To celebrate, here's the chapter I had told y'all was filler--which means the good chapters are now free to be posted a day earlier in the schedule! *does a little dance***

**In response to an anonymous review I received last chapter that I really wish I could've replied to: Sorry if the cameo bit from Winry was misleading, but when she assumed Ed 'abdicated' in chapter 56 because he wanted to kiss her, that was Winry's way of nicely saying she'd figured it out. Make no mistake--the discomforting sensation Ed experienced in Chapter 56 _was_ an unfortunate hard-on. (Haha. Love how I was all polite and vague and then all of a sudden I fling slang in your face. xD)**

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"Ed!" Winry called out as she ran up the stairs. She rapped on his door twice with her knuckle as a token gesture, then walked in without waiting for an answer.

"What's up?" His eyes were closed and his hair was free of its braid; it looked like he'd been sleeping.

"What're you asleep in the middle of the day for?" she asked, thrown off her train of thought.

"Pure laziness. I'm bored out of my skull, Win. Haven't we had this conversation a few billion times already?"

"Oh." She stared at him, trying to decide if he was really okay.

"What'd you come in here for?"

"Oh! Right." Winry snapped to attention. "I'm leaving. I'm going out. You're not allowed to leave this room or get out of bed—you're _resting_. I'm not sure how long it's going to take, but it shouldn't be more than an hour."

"Why's it so quiet here? Nobody tells me anything while I'm imprisoned." _Imprisonment_; that was what he had taken to calling it.

"June Ryder came by and all but begged me to let her take Joli to the park. Meta didn't want to come but Eli told her she should have some fun for once, but Meta said she'd only go if he went to he agreed. Then Grandma decided that June couldn't watch all those kids by herself—you know how June is—so Grandma went with them. Al's been gone most of the day; he told me where he was going but I think I forgot. I do remember he said he'd be back around four in the afternoon, though. I think he just went into town to catch up with people. Speaking of which, Dana Jacobs and Henry Witherson had a baby. They named it Maggie, after Mrs. Jacobs, the grandma. June was telling me all about the pictures and such—she was real excited."

Ed groaned loudly. "June gets way too excited about babies. It's not natural. Ever since elementary school I've been sure she was going to get pregnant at fifteen and have to marry whatever poor loser did it. It's just her personality, you know?"

"But she's not fifteen anymore," Winry pointed out.

"Guess she's in the free and clear then," Ed said sarcastically, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smirk. "Anyway, enough about June; she's insufferable. Where are you going, anyway?"

"I'm going to enroll Eli and Meta in school. They've been here nearly a week and nobody's even given school a thought except me, it's ridiculous. You'll be okay here, right? Want me to bring you any fiction books?" The last bit was a tease, albeit a stupid one.

"Fiction books about alchemy?" he countered, leaving her smiling as she left.

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**Several hours later, at the local playground**

Al had told Winry he was going out into town, but he hadn't really thought she was listening; if she had, she might have been less incurious about it. He hadn't found much to do (he already knew he wouldn't find anything) and today was a pretty quiet Thursday.

He'd been on his way home when, off to the side of the dirt road that led to the Rockbell home, ne noticed the children playing in the playground, taking advantage of the few hours they had until the sky turned blood-orange and sent them home.

Today, he stopped in front of the playground and watched the children, thinking of a time back when that was himself on those swings and slides. To his surprise, he discovered that though the memories were fond, he felt no longing to go back to those days. He wasn't the same child he had been five years ago.

He watched the children a moment longer, then turned to move on, when he noticed something odd: Meta Erlich, panting as she sprinted across the mulch and grass, playing the chasing "It" in a game of tag. Was this the same little girl who he'd seen in the diner, speaking in low, anxious tones to her brother? Was this the child who'd encouraged her older brother to take revenge on their father's killer? Was this the girl who had yelled at Ed and forced him to talk to Winry because her intuition told her it was the proper thing to do?

No, he realized: this was not the same child who had done all those things. The girl he saw had been freed somehow. Sweat ran down her flushed face and her breathing was loud as she put in the extreme effort to chase down her opponent; her cares seemed to blow back in the wind like her blond hair.

The ones being chased were Eli and ten-year-old twins Brian and James Ryder, June's little brothers. _Cheaters,_ Al thought; _she's the youngest, and she's a _girl _on top of that. _

He changed his mind, however, when he saw Meta catch up to James (the twins were fraternal, and James was the curly-haired one) and not just tag, but _tackle_ him so they both skidded to the ground and earned heavy grass stains. Meta hopped up immediately and hollered, "JAMES IS IT," then took off before James could get up and re-tag her.

After half an hour of watching them, which felt like only a few minutes, June stuck two fingers in her mouth and pulled off a spectacular whistle. This was the cue for all of the kids for which June and Pinako were responsible to come line up in front of her. "A'right," she addressed the kids. "It's going to be dinnertime soon, so you guys need to wrap it up. I'm going to get Joli and then we'll go." The kids gave her the obligatory chorus of groans, but as soon as she wasn't right in front of them they all laid or sat on the ground in various states of exhaustion.

Joli wouldn't come, though. She curled up in a tiny space under the stairs for the slide and refused to come out. When June tried to reach out and pluck the baby up, Joli snapped her teeth, threatening to bite. June tried persuasion, she tried threats, but all she succeeded in doing was frustrating Joli until she started to cry—though even _she_ didn't understand why.

"NO! Don't wanna go home!"

June ran her fingers through her hair and forced herself to be calm. "Joli, we have to take you home. It's going to be dinner soon. Aren't you hungry?"

"No!"

June tried a stern voice next. "Joli, get out from under there, right now, or you'll be in big trouble."

"No!"

"I'm going to count to three! One… two… two and a half…"

"No, no, no!" She started to cry louder, screaming in earnest.

"Move," Meta ordered as she stepped around June, taking control. "Joli Ann Erlich! If you don't get out from under there right this instant, I swear to God—Daddy will come walking down this road and take you home, back to Central! You want that, huh?"

The fact that Meta had worded the threat like that was less disturbing to Al than the way Joli immediately sobered and rushed into her sister's arms… this begged the question: what was so wrong with Erlich taking Joli home that the threat of him arriving was great enough to make her stop crying mid-tantrum?

With that on his mind to wonder suspiciously about, Al continued on the road home.  


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**Ah, yes, I had forgotten about that little bit of information. Yet another one of the Erlich kids' secrets which Al discovers. It doesn't really make up for the abysmal filler-ness of this chapter... I know. Anyway, thanks for my hundred reviews (I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU) and have a nice night!**

**Also, I don't own FMA and--I still enjoy your reviews, and I'd love some more, despite the obvious abundance I've got now. ^^**


	59. Luna Helena Sisley Turner

**Whenever you see Luna's full name at the beginning of a sentence, say it in your head in a very matter-of-fact way, otherwise the joke will be lost on you. The joke is that she thinks of herself in her full name and whenever she begins a thought with her full name, she has this big long name and the rest of the sentence is an abrupt thought. So you have to hear the statement-of-fact tone as you're reading. **

**My hope for this chapter is that you'll fall in love with this OC as thoroughly as I have, so in your reviews--please tell me what you think!  
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Luna Helena Sisley Turner never _saw_ things so much as _observed_ them. Anyone she knew who _saw_ things was undoubtedly boring.

Her mother was boring. Her mother saw things, but never _noticed_ them. Not like Luna did.

Luna Helena Sisley Turner avoided her mother as much as possible.

She would leave her house for hours at a time, walking along the deserted dirt roads that everyone used and no one noticed, and think about things—complex things that she could always only half explain when someone asked. Other people never asked.

Other people didn't think like Luna did. Other people thought about boring, practical things like mortgages. Luna hated mortgages and all they stood for. Money, corruption, swindling, lies. Politics; the dictatorship. She didn't believe the new Parliament was going to be any more useful or democratic than the old one had been. Neither was Fuhrer Armstrong any better or worse than Fuhrer Bradley—both were ruthless military dictators who cared little for little towns like Resembool, full of little people like Luna's mother.

Luna didn't consider herself to be a _little person_, though. Luna was intelligent; she was creative. She was _above_ her mother.

Luna Helena Sisley Turner hated those things, boring mundane things; politics, mortgages, mothers. She liked long, straight dirt roads and mossy dead trees and soft green hillsides adorned with lazily grazing sheep.

That was good, 'lazily grazing.' She liked the repetition of the 'azi' sound. Luna flipped her little marble notebook to an empty page and wrote down the phrase, then tucked the pencil between the pages and closed it again.

Luna Helena Sisley Turner loved her name. It was long, but it suited her perfectly. Luna's mother's one accomplishment in life, in Luna's opinion, besides producing the girl herself, had been crowning Luna with that name. If you put Luna and Helena together—Luna meant 'moon,' and Helena 'light'—her name meant 'moonlight.' Coupled with the fact that she had been born on the full moon, Luna was certain that the universe had chosen her for some divine purpose. The heavens shone for her and on her.

Luna Helena Sisley Turner was a moon princess.

When she was little, Luna had used to tell people all about how she was a moon princess, and how she had been chosen by the cosmos to lead the people out of the obscurity of their former lives; stockbroker lives, lawyer lives, counting and measuring and deciding lives; she was the savior. When she was little, it had been 'cute.' As Luna got older, people didn't ruffle her hair and smile so often, and as she aged further she got raised eyebrows. Her peers would whisper about Luna's _delusions_, Luna's _rambling_… Luna's _arrogance._

Luna Helena Sisley Turner was not _arrogant!_

She wasn't a _freak_—she wanted to fit in, at least to some degree. Human nature, perhaps, but even moon princesses are human when they're young.

Luna Helena Sisley Turner no longer told people that she was a moon princess—even though she still was.

Every day at sunset she would leave her house, her mother, and her mother's mortgage, and she would walk along the endless dirt roads as the moon rose.

When the moon rose, Luna Helena Sisley Turner _came alive_.

She twirled in circles, she sang little songs she'd made up on the spot, she laid down in the dirt and imagined what it would be like to sink down and become a part of the earth. Sometimes she brought food with her, berries and chocolate and little treats, so that she could take them out and hold them on her tongue and taste them while staring at her moon sister.

Sometimes people walked by Luna as she was walking on the roads or in the fields or between the trees or houses or fences. Luna at night was not a rare sight. (Aha! That rhymed too. Luna wrote it in the notebook.) People considered her as much a part a landscape as the cows, or the 'lazily grazing' sheep about which Luna had written in her notebook. The residents of Resembool knew Luna was an oddity, but she was harmless, and therefore, tolerated. Nobody stopped her on the road or asked what she was doing alone after dark or asked her if she wanted a ride home.

This was because, Luna had decided, they knew deep in their hearts in the place where the _mortgages_ denied them access, that Luna really _was_ a moon princess, their savior, the girl who would grow up and free them from the _mortgages_. You didn't interrupt a moon princess when she was busy experiencing the moon! It was unheard of!

Moon Princess Luna Helena Sisley Turner was, for this reason, surprised when someone walking along the road stopped and peered down at her.

She was laying in the middle of the road on the slightly raised hump where carriage wheels did not tread—it was sunset, and Luna was currently falling up into the sky, thinking vaguely of things such as mortgages and sex and berries and politics and tragically popped balloons.

"Are you okay?"

With a thud, Luna fell out of the sky and bumped her head on a rock. Her eyes fluttered, half open, and she looked curiously at the one who had pulled her out of the trance. The voice and face were familiar, but she couldn't place a name on him.

"Luna?" the boy repeated. She was still trying to remember who he was. He had longish bangs that fell across the left side of his face, and long hair, inexpertly braided so that it stuck out some places, and a good chunk of it which wouldn't stay put had been tucked behind his ears. His eyes were a peculiar shade of amber and he had a gentle voice, tinged with that lilting southern accent that essentially every Resembool resident shared. There was no mistaking it, and Luna was sure she knew everyone in the town by name—so how could this boy's face have slipped her mind?

"Who are you?" she asked after a moment's frustrated thought. Perhaps this was more blunt than was called for, but how _dare_ this boy interrupt her trance with his undefined and mysterious familiarity?

"Alphonse Elric," he said, without any hint in his tone that he was repeating information she ought to know.

"I haven't seen you without the armor in eons," she said, smiling lightly now that his face had a name again. Yes, she remembered him—she'd gone to school with him! How could she have forgotten? "Did you get over that little phase you had?"

"Er… yes," Al said, looking uncomfortable.

"Pity," Luna sighed, then did not explain why.

"So, why are you in the road?" Al asked.

"I'm a peculiarity." She was quoting others, of course—Luna would describe herself as an _intellectual_, a _poet_, an _artist_, a _moon princess_. Never a _peculiarity. _What a terrible word. And worse, it rhymed with nearly nothing! Any word that wouldn't rhyme was a word that Luna didn't particularly care for, and if it was a mean word—may Hell have mercy on it! _Orange _was off the hook, though, because it was the color of sunset and carrots.

"A peculiarity?" Al repeated. "That's an interesting way of looking at it."

"Why are you here?" Luna asked. "I had supposed that you and your brother were gone for good, seeing as you torched your house. Ah, the licking and caressing flames as your house sank to the ground were simultaneously majestic and depressing. I wrote a poem about fire the day after you left—I was so inspired by the sight. It was very sad. I cried to read it. After it was complete, I wrote it in permanent marker on the back of a piece of bark from a rotting tree, and then I buried it under a fern. To make up for the bad luck of writing a poem that made me cry, you understand."

"…Right," Al mumbled, weirded out. "My brother and I have come back to Resembool for the moment, and I'm fairly sure he wants to stay for awhile," Al continued, answering her question.

"Aha," she said, stabbing her index finger in the air. "The magnetic charm of our beautiful countryside has led you back home at last. Resembool is irresistible!"

"More like Ed got injured and Winry dragged us back home by our earlobes," Al chuckled.

"The siren call of Ed's lady love," Luna nodded sagely. "I understand." She sat up, crossing her legs native-style, and looked up at Alphonse.

"I wouldn't call her his 'lady love,'" Al responded. "It's not as if—"

"Nonsense! The love in their eyes as they gaze upon each other's faces is as unmistakable as if it were printed across their foreheads!" She slapped her thigh adamantly and looked up at the sky; the rising moon concurred.

"Even when Winry's glaring, with a wrench in both hands, while Ed cringes away in fear?" Al countered.

"A passion-filled glare is fraught with emotion!" Luna grabbed both of Al's wrists and pulled him so that he had to drop to his knees in a crouch or he would fall. Then she pulled him closer until their noses were almost touching, and stared in his golden eyes with her dreamy silver ones. She spoke in a soft whisper: "Love is a deep and complicated emotion. Only true lovers can look into each other's eyes, even when the current of their thoughts is filled with anger and frustration, and see the person with whom they share an innate connection, really _see_—not just see, but observe, notice, _view! _When you are truly in love, there is a tie, a string—a connection between the eyes of you and your lover—this is what a man sees as his lover walks down the aisle with the wedding march playing—have you never noticed the face of the groom at that moment? How his face lights up and he grins the whole time as he looks at the woman with whom he wishes to spend the rest of his life? You can tell, when you look at his face, that there is no one else in the room, for him. It is only him and her and the rest of forever!" She paused to breathe, then continued. "It is strongest then, but there are other moments when you can see the string which ties two lovers together, and if you truly train your eyes, you can see the string even at moments when the casual observer would see naught but anger. In this way, even an infuriated glare can be charged with the passion of love!"

By his facial expression, Luna could tell that Al understood why Luna had labeled herself as a peculiarity. She released his wrists and allowed him to back away—his skin had turned an interesting shade of pink. Raw salmon? The sunset last Monday? Perhaps just sunburn-shaded. (The sun was a cruel creature, who scalded the skin of unwitting vacationers—Luna hated the meanness and indiscriminate vindictiveness of the sun, which was yet another reason why Luna was glad she was a moon princess rather than a sun fairy.)

"Um, thanks for the input," Al said shakily. "I guess I'll… leave you to whatever it is you were doing… I have to get home anyway."

"See you later, Al," Luna said airily as she laid back down on the road wondering whether Al was salvageable—sure, he was a _scientist_, but the oddity of wearing a suit of armor almost constantly for five years might be the kind of thing that Luna could find a kindred spirit in. Certainly, his figurative _mortgage_ was smaller than her mother's. Yes, there was hope that he could be saved yet. Maybe Al was someone who she could trust with the secret of her true identity as a moon princess.

Just as she was falling back into the sky, Luna lost that train of thought and started thinking about words that rhymed with 'sheep.' Sheep were nice creatures… they deserved a poem. Something calming and regular, perhaps iambic. Yes, an iambic poem sounded nice. And she mustn't forget to include that phrase, 'lazily grazing.' It was just too pretty to leave out…

Then she started thinking about an epic poem she'd read when she was still too little to spell "receive" (I before E except after C unless sounding like A as in neighbor and weigh, unless it's weird.) That got her thinking about catchy ditties, and she started singing, "Thirty days hath September; April, June, and November; all the rest have thirty-one, except February, which ruins this rhyme anyway." June and the Ryder twins were just walking down the road on their way home, but nobody asked why she was singing the months because only Alphonse Elric would be stupid enough to interrupt Luna in her trance.

Luna Helena Sisley Turner was a peculiarity, after all.

* * *

**An amusing bit from next chapter shall be your preview.**

_"What'd you do to yourself?"_

_Her other hand rubbed the burn lightly when her attention was drawn to it. "Dropped a hot pan on it yesterday. It's not too bad. I get little scrapes and burns all the time when I'm working. This one will fade."_

_"Damn." He was still frowning. "You dropped a pan on it? …By accident?"_

_"Al… surprised me. He asked about us."_

_Ed choked and burned his tongue on the hot coffee, then realized why she'd dropped the pan._


	60. Denial, A River in Egypt

"Hi, Al, Winry greeted as Al walked into the kitchen. "You're just behind Eli and the girls, June brought them home a minute ago. They were all sweaty so I sent them to get cleaned up."

"Yes, I know. I passed June as she was dropping them off at home," Al responded as he took a chair and watched her finish up dinner. He hesitated. "I saw someone else on the way home, as well."

"Oh?"

"Luna."

"Luna _Turner_?" As if there was more than one Luna in a fifty-mile radius. Winry wrinkled her nose slightly. "She didn't _talk_ to you, did she?"

"Yeah, she did."

"Ugh. I feel sorry for you."

"She said some pretty interesting things—confirmed some stuff for me, actually." The guarded note in his voice was unmistakable.

"What about?" Winry was on guard, now.

Al decided to just come out with it point-blank. "What's going on with you and Ed?"

As if to confirm that something was up, Winry managed to both drop the pan and burn herself on the back of the hand in one movement. She cussed loudly and uncharacteristically, then cradled her hand and ran to the sink to run it under cold water.

Al waited, and decided that now she was no longer in the vicinity of something with burn potential, it was okay to repeat his question. "What's been happening?"

"That's… uh, not your problem, Al."

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, Winry."

"I'm not in denial." She wrapped a damp towel around her hand, tying it in her palm.

"How's your hand?"

"Stings." She was pouting now, he could tell.

"Have you told him how you feel?"

Winry shook her head. "We've gotten close to talking about it… Every time we do, though, something stops me. Him too, I'd bet. I know what to say, I just can't say it. It's frustrating, really."

Al grimaced sympathetically. "That's not good."

"I'll figure it out eventually," she sighed.

"Good luck, I guess."

"So what did Luna say exactly?"

Al paused, screwing up his face as he thought about it. "I don't know. She doesn't always follow a distinguishable train of thought. I think she compared you to a siren, and then started talking about weddings, and she concluded that you can be in love with someone while glaring at them."

"Aha." Nothing less than Winry expected of Luna.

"She calls herself a peculiarity," Al continued. "I thought that was weird. Overly self-deprecating, you know? How long has she had that self-esteem issue?"

"Don't know, don't care," Winry said with a wave of her hand. "When she was younger she was insufferably arrogant. Everybody pretty much writes her off now. You really have been away from home too long, Al, if you don't know _that_."

Just then, Meta came bounding down the stairs with Joli on her shoulders and Eli not far behind. "We're all cleaned up, Winry, can we eat dinner now?"

"Din-din!" Joli repeated for emphasis.

Winry smiled at them. "Sure," she said to Meta, "have a seat and put the baby down. Eli, do me a favor and get the plates."

In the hustle and bustle of dinnertime, Al's response to Winry was lost. "Despite how weird she can be, nobody deserves to be told they don't fit in. I know how hurtful it can be to be a peculiarity."

* * *

"Meta."

Used to being wakened by the baby's soft cries or whimpers, the sound of her name, even whispered, was enough to wake Meta up completely. "What's up, Eli?"

"First day of school today."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." She didn't usually wake up for less than blood, guts, and fire. Or Joli.

"It's six a.m. and I can't get back to sleep. Aren't you nervous about today, too?"

"Yeah. Was that all you wanted?"

"Um, well, can I hang out in your room until it's a decent hour to be awake?" In other words, _Can I sleep on your floor for a few more hours?_

"Why is six a.m. not a decent hour to be awake?"

"Because nobody else is awake."

"I'll be awake. We can be awake together." Meta sat up and pulled the blankets off of herself, then stepped around her brother and went to the little dresser full of hers and Joli's clothes. The Rockbells had bought them clothes and the dresser, but Meta insisted on wearing her own old clothes. She hadn't explained why, but at least Eli seemed to understand. Today, she put on a pair of Eli's hand-me-down camo-green cargos, which she tied with a thick string she used in place of a belt, and a long, drapelike white T-shirt which she knotted at her hip to make movement easier.

"You're wearing _that?_" asked her big brother, raising an eyebrow. (It was never awkward for Eli to watch Meta changing or vice versa. They weren't shy or reserved with each other, despite how timid (in Eli's case) or temperamental (in Meta's) they appeared to strangers.)

"Yeah," Meta said, turning around. "Who am I trying to impress, anyway?" Eli frowned, then apparently decided it wasn't worth it and tiptoed (so as not to wake the baby, who still shared with her) out of the room and into the kitchen.

Meta followed him out and sat down at the table, putting her head in her hands and slouching.

"Freaking out? Just a little?" he asked when he saw her posture.

"Tired," she responded.

"Sorry."

"'S not your fault. Jo-jo wouldn't let me sleep. Kept waking up asking for Daddy. As if he ever even came when she cried at night! It was always me! She was scared of him, for Pete's sake! I don't understand her, Brother, not at all!"

"Don't get so bent out of shape about it," he responded. "As if you never wished Dad was back! Even if he never did a single thing for us ever, (and you have to admit, he _did_ do some stuff) he was our _father_. You can't talk about him like that!"

"Ah, that whole _never speak ill of the dead _superstitious bit?" Meta asked. "I don't believe anything comes of it."

Eli sighed. "I've heard this already. You're an _atheist_, I get it."

"Up early?" Pinako asked as she came downstairs, already fully dressed, and noticed Eli and Meta sitting at the table. Neither responded; they preferred not to waste words by saying things such as "yeah" and "we couldn't sleep." Pinako understood—she wasn't a word-waster either.

"Tea?" She was putting the kettle on.

"Me, please," said Eli.

"Hate caffeine in the early morning," Meta said.

"Milk for you, then? Or juice?"

"Guess so." She sank down to the table and laid on her folded arms, wondering if she'd be able to get back to sleep like this.

It was quiet in the kitchen for a few minutes as Pinako served the children and they didn't do much of anything. Winry came downstairs as the bluish morning turned pink, wearing a pair of cotton sleep shorts whose hems were barely visible because the large, loose men's shirt she wore over it was so long. Because he was eleven and girls no longer had cooties, Eli noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, but none of the girls seemed to care, so he tried not to pay much attention.

Winry didn't seem to be very awake just yet, but she shuffled over to the teapot and poured herself a cup—whereas Meta seemed to disapprove of caffeinated drinks in the morning, Winry seemed to thrive on them—of course, that followed logically, given her penchant for overwork when it came to the automail shop, it was hardly surprising that she'd developed a small addiction to morning tea.

"You two sure are up early," she noted. Normally Meta didn't wake until Joli did, and Eli didn't wake until after sunrise. "Excited about your first day of school?" Eli noticed Winry noticing Meta's obvious downdressing.

"I'm kinda nervous," Eli confessed when Meta stared at her cup vaguely and didn't respond.

"What for? It's not like you don't know anyone—well, you were playing with the Ryder twins just yesterday, weren't you? There's no reason to be nervous."

"It's not just that, though. I'm more concerned about… well, you mentioned that southern schools aren't the same as the public schools in Central, and…"

"Don't worry about that," said Pinako dismissively. "Resembool Primary is an excellent school, always has been. Winry went there, Ed and Al went there, Urey went there when he was a kid, and I went there—though it feels like a lifetime ago—I'm fairly certain my parents and uncle went there, too, though of course they're not around to confirm it."

"Of course, it's burned down and been remodeled a couple times since Grandma was a child, but it's still great," Winry added. "You'll do fine."

"He overreacts," Meta muttered at her cup.

* * *

"Ed? You awake yet?"

"Noo…"

Winry chuckled and let herself in with the breakfast tray—Ed's last meal in bed, but he didn't know that yet. "I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked when she realized he was lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow, hair loose and getting everywhere, and judging from what skin she could see where his rumpled blanket didn't cover, wearing only the shorts he'd slept in.

"Yehh…" And clearly he was also too tired to provide more than monosyllabic answers.

"I brought food," she said in a singsongy, enticing way.

He lifted one hand and held it out to her, palm open and up. "Food."

Winry rolled her eyes. "Sit up like a normal person, Ed."

"Fuck it." He dropped his hand.

Well, at least that was two syllables. "I brought coffee."

"C8, H10, N4, O2." **(Fanfiction doesn't let me do subscripts, but the numbers ought to be. It's in chemical notation.)**

"Ed, I have no idea what you're talking about."

He sat up grudgingly and looked at her. "Caffeine. C8, H10, N4, O2. Duh. Don't you even know what's in your own food?"

"Apparently carbon, hydrogen, that one element with the N, and oxygen," she said without interest as she picked up the cup of coffee (Ed preferred it to tea) and held it out to him. "You want it or no?"

"No milk in it, right?"

"I prefer not to get screamed at before eleven, so no. Plus, I'm in a good mood—Meta and Eli went to their first day of school today, and I'm excited to know how that goes, and also—but I'll get to that bit later! Drink," she pointed to the cup in his hands, hoping the tired-but-tolerant look would go away form his face if he drank some.

He sipped some, than looked at her more fully.

His eyes immediately noticed the pinkish burn on her hand (she didn't know that Ed always looked at the hand with the ring when Winry entered a room) and he scowled. "What'd you do to yourself?"

Her other hand rubbed the burn lightly when her attention was drawn to it. "Dropped a hot pan on it yesterday. It's not too bad. I get little scrapes and burns all the time when I'm working. This one will fade."

"Damn." He was still frowning. "You dropped a pan on it? By accident?"

"Al… surprised me."

"That was stupid of him."

Winry realized Ed was imagining Al sneaking up behind her and shouting 'BOO' or something. "It wasn't like that," she told him. "It was… something he said… that caught me off guard."

"Aha." Ed was quiet, passing her an _are-you-going-to-tell-me? _look.

"He asked about _us_."

Ed choked and burned his tongue on the hot coffee, then realized why she'd dropped the pan. He set the cup down on the tray, safely away from himself. "What—" he had to cough a couple more times before he could finish his sentence— "did you tell him?"

"That we hadn't really discussed it," she said carefully.

"That was all? You didn't… go into details?"

"'Course not, Ed. Haven't you ever heard, _never kiss and tell_?"

"Since _I_ was never a prepubescent eleven-year-old girl discussing 'cute' prepubescent eleven-year-old boys on the playground and whether or not I'd kissed them, no, I've never heard that phrase. I understand the sentiment, though. So you didn't say anything?"

"My lips are sealed." _For now_, she added in her head. Only until they decided to openly talk about their relationship with the rest of the world.

"Aww, well that's no fun." Winry didn't get it until she saw the teasing smirk on his face, then she blushed. _Maybe I should have used a different expression._

"Well, forget _fun_ for the moment, I've got good news!" She clapped her hands once, grinning.

"Forget _fun_?" he repeated incredulously. "The good news better be that I've won the lottery."

"Better!" she disagreed, chuckling at the little joke he'd made and making one of her own: "You're off imprisonment!"

"Seriously?" Ed pumped his fist in the air. "All right! Sentence over!"

"Yep! I decided sometime yesterday when I saw you changing the bandages. It doesn't really look all that bad anymore, and you didn't even wince like usual—so either you actually took the medication," Ed snorted in response to that, "or it doesn't hurt like it used to. So I've decided you may be free from the patient room—on the condition that you don't immediately do something stupid like try to run five miles."

"Are you kidding? I'd be crazy to waste my freedom like that!" Ed exclaimed. "I'm _free!_ You're the best!" He hugged her tightly, then threw the blankets away, stood, and headed for the door.

"Ed." She grabbed his arm to stop him, then, when he gave her an annoyed _what-is-it-this-time?_ look, she pointed at his near-nudity. "Clothes, Ed. You're in your shorts."

Ed looked down. "Nice save."

* * *

_"Chewing with your mouth full of food is—" Winry popped a cracker into her mouth and started chewing to make the point— "insufferably rude."  
_

_"Good. Can I read now, or are you going to force-feed me more saltines?"_

_Winry licked her lips to make sure they were free of cracker crumbs—this doubled as an effective way to make Ed focus—and looked over at Joli, who had lapsed into silence again, watching the road for her siblings to come home. "Speaking of missing siblings, where's Al?"_

_Ed's expression seemed to darken. "Upstairs, I think."_

_"What's up?" Winry asked when she noticed the sadness in his voice. "You guys fighting?"_

* * *

**So, next chapter, some development on the issue of the strange way Al's been acting (has anyone been wondering why we haven't seen him with Ed lately?)--unfortunately, we don't get it from Al's perspective until Chapter 62, and even then, he refuses to talk about the problem with Ed. (Yes. It's another convo with my new favoritest character EVAR. Luna. And it's fairly angsty, so beware.) **

**I get a lot of questions about who I'm going to pair Al with! At first people were asking me about June (C'mon, JUNE? Really?!), but the new _question du jour _is from people wanting to know about an AlxLuna pairing. To be honest with you, I'm not sure. The problem I'm mostly having right now is deciding in Al's type, and whether Luna fits it. I can assure y'all right now that at the very least, there will be a one-sided crush from Luna. Al's too nice NOT to like! Honestly! But at the same time, it's difficult to say whether or not Al would be into Luna, y'know? So for now, y'all will have to settle for knowing that Luna will be interested in Al, whether or not it's reciprocated. (Even if it wasn't Luna would just brush it off and write boatloads of poetry about the oh-so-cliche loneliness of a broken heart. Angst, but in a satirical sort of way.) **

**Chapter 63 tentative: Ed gets to second base with Winry. Or at least has a fantasy about it. The result: fluffy semi-smut. ^^**

**And in the near future, Ed gets a call from Mustang about a short (two-week, give or take) mission and, since Al is still mad at him, Ed doesn't tell him about it and goes alone. Winry's concern for Al, who begins spending less and less time at home until she quite literally doesn't see him at all for two days in a row, compels her to go up to Central to kick Ed's ass, and when she finds out Ed is performing an inspection on the still-recovering town of Lior, Winry kicks Mustang's ass as substitute (ordering to one, tell her where Ed is, and two, stop faking the womanizer thing and just get with Riza already--Riza who, after the night in the junkyard, had a scare in the hospital when the doctor informed her that her lung function had probably decreased significantly and she would be lucky to survive the night. Being Riza, we know she did survive--too stubborn to die, really--but the result of all that was RoyxRiza related angst. Now, Riza is getting heavy pressure from Fuhrer Armstrong to retire.) Winry leaves Central before we find out the results of either her prodding Mustang or Armstrong prodding Hawkeye, and buys a train ticket to Lior to kick Ed's ass--for real this time. More stuff is in my head but since I've just told the future for ten chapters ahead (for all I know) I won't say more'n that.  
**

**I don't own FMA, please review!**


	61. Patience and Saltines

**I don't own FMA. Please review!**

**OH, and btw! LOVED the most recent chapter of the manga! Looks like everything's culminating into one epic battle! I think I'm going to die, waiting for next month.  
**

* * *

"Where'd sissy go?"

"She's at school, Joli," Winry said for the billionth time.

"Where'd brother go?"

"He's at school too."

"Is they coming home?"

"They'll be home very soon, Joli." _Patience, patience, patience,_ Winry chanted to herself.

"I wanna go school with brother."

"You'll go to school with Brother and Sissy when you're older."

"When I'm a big girl?"

"Yes, when you're a big girl," Winry sighed.

Joli was silent as she stared eagerly out the front window, then impatiently, she started in on another round (or rather, the same round) of questions.

"Where'd sissy go?"

"She went to school, Joli." _Patience. She has no idea she's so annoying._

"I want sissy!"

"I know you want to see Sissy, but you have to wait until she gets home from school. Here, you want some crackers?" Food: the end-all solution to annoying children.

Joli took the one Winry proffered to her, but as soon as she swallowed she continued asking questions. "Brother… at school?"

"Yes, Brother's at school," Winry assured her, sitting back on the couch next to Ed. He was reading a book about alchemy, which had enabled him to ignore Joli's incessant fretting completely. Winry had no such escape, because the workload for the automail shop was sinfully light today. Pinako was in the basement workshop right now with a customer—the only customer who'd come in all day _and_ yesterday.

And Joli was unceasingly concerned about her siblings' whereabouts!

"Brother sissy at school?" Joli verified.

Winry gave a please-God-smite-me-now moan. "Yes, Brother and Sissy are at school."

Joli didn't seem to realize she was doing anything wrong. "When they comin' home?"

"They'll come home when school's over." She twisted on the couch and banged her head on the back a few times, which caused Ed to peer over his book at her with raised eyebrows.

"Why the sudden masochistic tendency?"

"She won't _shut up_, in case you haven't noticed."

"If she's annoying you, you know you don't have to answer every time. It just encourages her." He understood. Sure, babies were cute, but The Age of Questions was the time in a young child's life when even the most hardcore lovers of children were tempted to pack the kid in a crate and mail them to another country.

"Ed, she's a baby. I can't _ignore_ her."

"Don't think of it as ignoring," he responded, then looked back at the book in his hands and seemed to lose himself, forgetting about her completely. Alchemy books had always done that to him, just as automail did it to her.

"Ed, if you don't answer her questions, that's called ignoring," said Winry dully, and to make sure she had his attention, she reached into the box of crackers and pushed one between his lips.

It threatened to fall, but Ed clamped onto the cracker with his teeth in time, then let go of the book to push it into his mouth. "Didn't say I wanted a cracker," he said with his mouth full.

"Chewing with your mouth full of food is—" Winry popped a cracker into her mouth and started chewing to make the point— "insufferably rude." She finished the bite, then continued her thought. "As is ignoring a little baby when she's just worried about her big brother and sister."

"Good. Can I read now, or are you going to force-feed me more saltines?"

Winry licked her lips to make sure they were free of cracker crumbs—this doubled as an effective way to make Ed focus—and looked over at Joli, who had lapsed into silence again, watching the road. "Speaking of missing siblings, where's Al?"

Ed's expression seemed to darken. "Upstairs, I think."

"What's up?" Winry asked when she noticed the sadness in his voice. "You guys fighting?"

"No, not really…" Ed sighed. "I've alienated him several times in quick succession, though. I hadn't meant to tell him about my battle with Kimblee right then—I was going to, of course, but if I'd known he was going to listen to my explanation to you I'd've worded it differently. Plus I told him I'm giving up on my arm and leg, and although he said he didn't mind, it's obvious he's disappointed. I think Al felt as guilty about me losing my limbs as I did about him losing his body. I can imagine how it would've felt if he'd just up and told me one day that he didn't want his body back, so I understand… Even though I'm upset that he's pouting this way, I know it's no different than how I would react, so I've got no room to talk."

Winry chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about this. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it?" Ed repeated. "Not much. Whad'you _expect_ me to do?"

"Well, _something_, I guess," she said, sounding a bit annoyed at his inaction.

"He'll either figure it out himself, or talk to me about it, either way it requires no action on my part," said Ed, totally convinced.

"Where's sissy?" Joli interrupted their conversation.

"She's at school," Ed said in a tone that dismissed the matter. She pouted and turned away toward the window again.

"Aren't you worried, though?" Winry asked. "If it were me, I would be."

"It'll work itself out," Ed assured her, reaching over to squeeze her hand comfortingly.

"SISSY!" Joli screamed excitedly, standing up and pointing out the window. "Sissy's home!" She acted as if this was the most exciting thing to ever happen to her.

"We're back," Eli called out in the kitchen, and Joli ran out of the room and zoomed to the front door, attaching herself to Meta's thighs, nearly throwing the nine-year-old off balance—she grabbed Eli's arm to steady herself, then laughed and bent to hug Joli back.

"She missed you," Winry said as she followed behind Joli at a more normal pace, Ed shuffling along boredly behind her.

"I missed you too," Meta cooed to her little sister.

"You're out of the patient room?" Eli asked. He didn't realize he took a step back as Ed entered, but Winry and Ed both saw it as clear as day.

"I've been freed," said Ed in a happy enough tone, though knowing his voice as well as she did Winry could detect the edge to his voice—he was still irritated at the way Meta and Eli seemed to tiptoe around him like he was going to snap and attack them at any moment—Eli more so than Meta.

"How was your first day?" Winry asked when Den and Joli calmed down and Eli and Meta had deposited their backpacks (the same rucksacks they'd once filled with all their worldly possessions) temporarily in adjacent chairs at the kitchen table.

Meta made an indistinct 'ehhh' noise.

"It sucks being the newcomer," Eli said, translating his sister's sentiments. "I felt welcomed, but not accepted… if you know what I mean?"

"I get it," said Winry, smiling reassuringly. "If I were you, I wouldn't worry. You just need to give it time." She looked at Meta, who seemed to be sulking. "And what about you?"

"Didn't like it." She grabbed her rucksack and headed into the room she shared with Joli.

Winry looked at Eli with questions in her eyes.

"She's not that great with new people," Eli explained.

"I noticed that," Ed commented, causing Winry to clock him on the head with her fist.

"Be nice," she ordered.

"It's not worth it—you're going to hit me no matter what I do," Ed complained.

"It is, too, worth it," she responded. "I hit you less violently if you're not a jerk."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Some incentive."

"I'll show _you_ incentive," she muttered menacingly, reaching for a wrench.

"Oh, _will_ you?" he teased, then danced away into the living room before she could chase him there.

Winry was about to give chase, but Al chose that moment to come downstairs and give her a funny look. "What's all the excitement?" His hair was down, not braided as he had worn it the past few weeks, mimicking Ed's hairstyle of choice. Winry wondered just _how_ angry Al was with Ed.

"Eli and Meta just got home form school—Joli got excited, so Den got excited, hence the general excitement. I was just about to go chase Ed down and knock him over the head with a wrench, but since it's the first time you've shown your face today—how are you doing? What's the deal with you and Ed? Are you mad at him?"

Al's face turned to unreadable stone. "No, of course I'm not mad at him. That would be ridiculous. He's my _brother,_ Winry." But his voice and words were sending two entirely different messages. Winry frowned, but before she could question him he walked forward, stepping around her and out the door, mumbling a quick, "be back before sundown" as he left.

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**Next chapter, "Cinnamon and Poltergeists"**

_"Ah, Alphonse, you've come to call in me for the second day in a row? What a pleasant surprise. Did you get my message, then?"_

_"Message?"_

_"Yes, the psychic message I sent you late last night."_

_"Well, actually…"_

_"Anyway in response to your question: no, I do not visit this road every day. It's only for these past two days I've been haunting around this area. Why do you ask? Does my presence bother you?"_

_"No, of course not! It's just… well, you don't see people sitting on the side of the road, leaning on a fencepost, sleeping in midafternoon."_

_"So, what brings you here?" She jumped suddenly and leaned forward and lowered her voice, looking down the road shiftily. "You're not being followed by any _poltergeists_, are you?"_

_"Pol…ter…geists…"_


	62. Cinnamon and Poltergeists

**I don't own FMA. Please review!

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"Luna, do you always come to this road at this time of day? Why're you here?"

The platinum-haired, slightly elfin-looking teenager in question opened her eyes and pushed the brim of her straw hat a little higher to look at her golden-eyed peer. "Ah, Alphonse, you've come to call in me for the second day in a row? What a pleasant surprise. Did you get my message, then?"

"Message?" he repeated.

"Yes, the psychic message I sent you late last night."

"Well, actually…"

"Anyway in response to your question: no, I do not visit this road every day. It's only for these past two days I've been haunting around this area. Why do you ask Does my presence bother you?"

"No, of course not," Al said quickly, afraid to offend her. "It's just… well, you don't see people sitting on the side of the road, leaning on a fencepost, sleeping in midafternoon."

She chose to ignore the not-so-subtle hint about her strangeness. "So, what brings you here?" She jumped suddenly, as if pinched, then leaned forward and lowered her voice, looking down the road shiftily. "You're not being followed by any _poltergeists_, are you?"

"Pol…ter…geists." The flat blank tone of his voice as he enunciated every syllable told Luna all she needed to know.

She reached up and flicked the brim of the hat a little more upward as it crept oh so slowly downward. Today she had dressed seemingly for the sole purpose of looking out of place: wide-brimmed straw hat and long, somewhat tattered overalls with nothing underneath, a long silver necklace with the charm invisible because it was tucked into her breasts (she always wore that particular article, it was a ball that looked reminiscent of an overdecorated tea egg or perhaps an elliptical bell, and it was filled with strongly scented dried ingredients—usually cinnamon, ginger, or orange peels—to ward off evil, of course, though the fact that she left strange scents in her wake was a added bonus). The most standout article Luna wore was the pair of expensive-looking earrings on fishhook backs which hung down low enough to nearly brush her shoulder and which were completely laden with diamonds in a tapering, grape bunch pattern. Of course they didn't go with the overalls and straw hat at all, but Luna never needed a reason to make her clothes _go_. And the earrings were interesting.

"Ah," Luna said presently, "if you're not here about the poltergeists you must've stopped because you wanted to talk to me about something."

"Not exac—"

"Nonsense! Nobody talks to me except when they have a secret to tell me that they can't confide in anyone else." She would have said it was because their subconscious was telling them that she was the Moon Princess, savior of the people. Anyone else would have said it was because she was both insightful and an excellent secret-keeper. Luna just _wouldn't_ gossip.

Al frowned. "What makes you think I have to have something on my mind in order to stop in the road and talk to you?"

She leaned back and ducked her head lower, causing the hat to sink lower, casting a shade over her eyes. "If you don't have anything to say, I _was_ taking a nap," she hinted in a darker voice than before.

Closing her eyes, Luna became silent.

"Uh… Luna, are you okay?" It seemed to Al as if she was pouting. Her choice of words had again made him concerned—'Nobody talks to me…' _Why,_ he thought at the heavens in mild annoyance, _Why does everyone in my life require my assistance to pull them together?_ First Ed and Winry and their inability to sort themselves out, the Erlich kids and their apparent multitude of issues, and now this Luna girl and her self-esteem case. _This is too much for one person to handle._ Of course, Al wasn't the type to walk away from the problem, either.

There was really no other option at that point. Al stepped off the road and sat in the dirt next to her.

There was a long silence; Al was waiting until she registered that he wasn't leaving.

"You're not leaving," she observed without lifting her head.

"There _are _people in this world that won't always come to you just because they want something," he informed her. "I could be one of them… if you would let me be."

She sighed. "You know why I come out here every day? It's to avoid my parents. Mom, especially… Dad's never home long enough to avoid, and when he is home, he spends most of his time holed up with my mother. I think they're under the impression that if they have sex a lot, their glaringly obvious incompatibility issues will go away."

"Oh." Not a single sweeping hand flourish or look of wide-eyed intensity meant she really was depressed by what she was saying.

"It sucks being by myself all the time, _plus_ cramped inside the house, so I just solve the one of those two issues I can. I leave. Of course, this town is too tiny. There's nowhere to go. So here I am… napping on the side of the road. I was watching the children as they came home from school… sometimes the little ones talk to me, you see. But today, I got bored and fell asleep… that was about the time when those pixies attacked me… That might've been a dream but you can never know with pixies; they're real clever. And then here you are, waking me up, asking me why I'm here. Now I've answered your question, see?"

"Don't you get bored of leaving the house all the time, wandering around aimlessly?"

"Not really. I'm able to keep myself entertained most days."

"Most days?" he repeated.

"Everybody gets lonely sometimes, no? I'd suppose it happened to you often enough." Al noted her use of the past tense. "When you were doing the armor thing, I mean…" Intuitively Luna knew more than she consciously understood about Al's armor. As this came to her attention she turned the questioning focus to him. "There was something not normal about that armor, wasn't there?"

"It's… complicated alchemy stuff," he told her.

"If I bother you about it, are you more likely to tell me what you're talking about?"

"As likely as not," he said, responding honestly to her transparent question.

"Then there's not much use in pressing the matter," she decided, and fell silent.

When Al didn't say anything—merely stared out through the fields—Luna realized there was something on his mind, too. "What's wrong?"

Al shook his head. "I told you, I didn't come here to dump my problems on you."

"Don't think of it that way, then. You seem really upset about something." By _really upset_, she meant that she'd noticed they way his expression wasn't completely neutral as he stared into the distance—his lips were turned ever so slightly down—and he seemed to be thinking hard about something.

"It's just that… my brother… Ed did something stupid with alchemy, probably shortened his lifespan."

"How long?"

"We have no idea," he sighed.

"So what's the point of pouting about something undefined and fairly unchangeable?"

"It's not just that," he responded. "Just the other day, he woke me up in the middle of the night and told me he didn't want to continue the research we had been doing to restore his arm and leg."

Oh, right… Ed Elric had an automail arm and leg. Luna hadn't been thinking about it. "So he kinda laid a double whammy on you there."

"Yeah… I guess you could say that."

"Are you mad at him? Is that why you left the house this afternoon? And yesterday?"

"I know I shouldn't be… I shouldn't be so unforgiving. At the same time, it doesn't seem fair…"

"You were pretty interested in getting Ed's arm and leg back, weren't you? So this must be a big disappointment. And then, to tell you about this other lifespan thing… I can only imagine what that kind of news must be like." She paused… imagining that news, presumably. "It's some pretty poor timing on his part."

"The bit that really hurts is how it's like I don't even matter to him anymore. I'm… not on his priority list anymore. I've felt like the second rung since… the day we got the first letter from Haven, I think. He hasn't been quite the same to me since."

"Letter from haven…?" Luna mumbled to herself.

"It's not like I don't understand…" Al continued. "I've always understood Brother, and I've never really _resented_ him, no matter what he'd done. Lately I feel like an intruder in my own brother's life, though. He barely takes his eyes off of Winry long enough to notice me at all."

"Cute as a couple, idiot as a brother," Luna summarized. "Have you told anyone else about this?"

"No, but honestly I feel a little better about it now that I've been able to talk about it… Maybe now I can get past it."

"That's no good. You shouldn't let yourself stew over your feelings like that. It's not healthy. You ought to tell him how you feel so you both know where you stand."

Al didn't look like he wanted to do that. "It's not something I'd feel comfortable bothering him about… Especially since I already had my chance to yell at him. Two chances. One of them I took, one of them I let go… Anyway, the point is that there's nothing more to be said. I do want him to be happy with Winry. You were right yesterday, you know. When I came home and confronted her about it, she freaked and dropped a hot pan on her hand. Coupled with the way Ed was acting in the hospital room…"

"Hospital room?" Luna repeated under her breath.

"I think you were right yesterday," Al went on. "I'm certain there's something going on there, something they won't tell me. And it didn't happen when Winry started wearing the ring he told me he bought… even though that would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"Ring…" Luna echoed.

"It happened in the hospital room. I don't know_ what_ happened, but I _do_ know when and where." Al fell silent, lost in his own thoughts, while Luna reeled vaguely in his wake.

Eventually she seemed to catch herself on a snag and right her thoughts, and there was a long, uncomplicated silence, perhaps half an hour or forty-five minutes long, and Luna drifted back to sleep. When Al noticed this, he thought about leaving, but decided against it, figuring there wasn't much he really wanted to go home to.

She slumped forward and sideways at some point, and leaned on his shoulder, which Al allowed only because he wasn't mean enough to dump her on the ground. She smelled strongly of cinnamon, to his perplexity.

There wasn't much to do… Al stared at the horizon and enjoyed the time to be alone with his thoughts.

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**Sadly, angst in this chapter. I'm sorry! The continuation of this conversation occurs in Chapter 64, while Chapter 63 is pretty much comic (also fluffy!) relief. I'm trying to pull this story back into a recognizable plot because I'm feeling stagnation--I figure y'all are feeling it too--so in Chapter 65, Ed will get the call from Central about the mission I mentioned in an AN previously.

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**Next chapter...**

_What with all these fun benefits of finding out your best friend was as crazy for you as you were for her, Ed was hard-pressed to find a time in the day when he didn't want to feel her body sandwiched between his and the door to the coat-filled hall closet—even if his brother _had _just walked out the front door with an icy, "I'll be back before sundown." It didn't matter that there were little kids a few rooms away who would hear if they were too loud, or that Parental Supervision (in the form of Winry's grandmother) was one floor below them and could intrude in a heartbeat. It was just him and her and too damn many clothes._


	63. The Noises She Makes

**Okay guys, this chapter is pretty much the _reason_ this fic is rated T (well, that and the occasional language)--it rides the T/M line, I'm sure--so be warned. Fortunately, it ends in a gigglesnort-inducing joke, so all's well that ends well! **

**This chapter WOULD have been posted last night (for the sake of the kitty! -inside joke-) but FF. net decided to give me an 'exception error' for every document in my Document Manager, so I couldn't even delete the old Chapter 62, and I couldn't write the An for this one, so I had no choice but to wait. Obviously, the problem has been sorted out now! **

**I don't own FMA, please review!**

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It wasn't fair, Ed decided, that she managed to conquer his mind by simply being in the vicinity.

Today she'd been in charge of watching Joli, a job she'd mostly bestowed upon herself, and just knowing she was in the house had made her Ed's number one object of mental attention. As long as Winry was keeping an eye on the baby he couldn't get her alone in the workshop or his room and jump her—Pinako and Meta would jointly kick his ass—so Ed settled for the next best thing, aka subtly following Winry around (whenever Joli bored of the room she was in, she relocated, causing Winry and consequently Ed to leave as well, in order to keep a constant watch on the curious child.) He had a book on alchemy with him as an attempt to distract himself, but he'd read about nine pages in the last four hours because every time Winry was looking away he felt compelled to look up, watching her admiringly. Ironically, she probably thought he was absorbed in the alchemy book—ha!

Despite the fact that his brother was pouting and barely talking to him, and he had to worry about the ever-moody and variable Meta Erlich, the main concern on Ed's mind was getting Winry alone and locking the door.

Truly, it was ridiculous the way he wanted her—like a compulsion—acute to the point of pain, hotter than flame in the pit of his stomach, powerful enough to make him think in circles (or perhaps, more accurately, overused clichés) that invariably started and ended at her.

He figured she wanted it too, if the way she acted when they _did_ get those rare moments together wan any indication: the way she unbraided his hair and slid her hands across his scalp and through the blond strands that fell down his back was too amazing for words (who knew why the gentle tugging of those lengths of dead proteins hanging off his skull sent shivers down his spine—it hardly mattered except that it was spectacularly arousing). Of course, first on the list of reasons why Ed was sure Winry wanted him as much as he wanted her: the _noises_ she made—God, how those kept him up at night after they'd reluctantly broken apart at three a.m.—because that was the new routine most days—even sitting in the middle of the living room reading a scientific book while she kept an eye on the baby, Ed clenched his teeth and squirmed a little on his side of the couch to hide his excitement as he thought about the noises he'd only recently found out Winry could make.

What with all these fun benefits of finding out your best friend was as crazy for you as you were for her, Ed was hard-pressed to find a time in the day when he didn't want to feel her body sandwiched between his and the door to the hall closet—even if his brother _had_ just walked out the front door with an icy, "I'll be back before sundown." It didn't matter that there were little kids a few rooms away who would hear if they were too loud, or that Parental Supervision (in the form of Winry's grandmother) was one floor below them and could intrude in a heartbeat. It was just him and her and too damn many clothes.

"Doesn't this make you feel like we're living a double life?" she asked when they broke the initial liplock that had brought them, only half aware of their actions, into the dark and out-of-the-way closet.

"What, like spies?" he asked against the soft skin of her neck. "Sure, I guess."

She tilted her head up to give him easier access. "Not too sneaky, though, are we? Everyone knows."

"They do?" He froze for a second—this was news.

"Yeah, Ed. Probably your fault, too—you spend a lot of time staring at me when you think no one's watching you."

"You noticed?" he asked sheepishly.

"Actually, Grandma pointed it out to me," Winry admitted just as sheepishly. "Apparently you're not subtle at—ahhh…" Ed had resumed kissing her neck—right now he was leaving her a brand with his sucking that was so distractingly arousing that Winry forgot to complain about how people would notice that hickey later—hell, she'd forgotten the end of her sentence!

"What was that, Win?" he teased.

"I—don't—no coherent thoughts come when you break the G rating."

That made Ed chuckle, his warm breath tickling her collarbone. "Clearly."

"You laughing at me?" she feigned offense.

"Not if you don't want me to," he said ambiguously. The main event was his hands now, exploring the smooth curve of her waist, daringly slipping under the hem of her shirt, while Winry had brought his face back up to hers and had already pulled the band out of his tail and was running her fingers though his hair. While their tongues did daring battle, their hands explored each other slowly, almost hesitantly. Conversation was forgotten for the moment, but only so long: Both were just too social for complete silence.

"What happens if someone catches us?"

"Ah—oh!" Ed mumbled in response as his metal elbow accidentally thumped against the wall. There was a frozen _did-anyone-hear-that?_ silence, then, when they were fairly sure it was safe, Ed chuckled.

"Oops."

"Well, that was an odd coincidence," Winry noted, laughing nervously as well. "Maybe we should go somewhere with less likelihood of getting found."

"That's what makes it fun," he complained teasingly.

"Oh, is that it?" Winry teased back. "And here I had been thinking it was because of this." She unhooked her hand from his hair and ran a hand down his chest.

"Uhh," Ed responded, licking his lips nervously when, instead of moving her hand immediately, the other came down, and her thumbs hooked in his waistband—she was using the leverage to pull his hips forward. "Maybe that's not such a good—"

"Relax," she soothed, kissing him on the lips to silence him.

"Mm!" Ed protested, pulling away. "It's just—I—"

"What?" she asked as she pushed him back and into the opposite wall (two steps; it wasn't a big closet).

He didn't know what to do—he couldn't push her away (honestly he didn't want to)—but she was going to realize—hell, she probably already had.

"What?" Winry repeated. "What's the problem?"

Ed closed his eyes. "I… I'm… _really_ sorry."

Winry was grinning broadly. "Why are you getting so spastic on me, Ed?"

"You don't have to pretend." She was flush against him; she'd have to be blind or an idiot not to notice!

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips once, then her lips made their way across his jaw until her breath tickled his ear. "I'm sure I'd be almost offended if you _didn't_ think of me that way, Edward."

"You've been messing with me," he realized, causing her to burst into giggles at his slowness. Embarrassed, Ed tilted his head down and kissed her shoulder, making his way across and up her neck, to hide his face from her.

"Winry!" Meta rapped twice on the door to the closet. "Stop your damn giggling! We can hear you all the way in our room! Your grandma's gonna come up to investigate if you two don't quiet down!" They both listened with identical horrorstruck faces, staring at the door.

"Oh my God," Winry said after a minute. "They knew the whole time."

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**xDDD GO META YOU ARE THE BEST CHICA EVAR!!!**

***gigglesnorts hysterically***

**LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT! **

**Love how I get so excited about my own fic. It's great! I'm like my own favorite reader! **

**Spekaing of readership, why is it that within three days of posting any given chapter, 67 people have read or at least visited it and yet the average chapter gets two to three comments? This annoys me! I shall stop posting daily if I don't get more reviews for my efforts! Sheesh!

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**Next chapter...**

_"How many sandwiches did you bring with you?" he asked curiously._

_"Nine."_

_"Why so many?"_

_"Sometimes I feed animals I pass as I'm walking in the night. Also, nine is a factor of my lucky number."_

_"What's your lucky number?" He asked the obvious follow-up question as she handed him one._

_"Two thousand, two hundred eighty-six."_

_"And that's divisible by nine," he said flatly._

_"Two hundred fifty-four times nine__ is 2286."

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**Yeah.... she's weird.**_  
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	64. Nine Swordfish Sandwiches

**I don't own FMA. Please review!**

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Around sunset, Luna woke, slowly at first, then when she realized who she was leaning against, she started. "Ah! Al! You're still here!"

"Yeah. I didn't feel like leaving, anyway."

She turned pink, then touched her face, experiencing the blush. "You should've kicked me awake or something. I wouldn't have minded! You oughtn't've let me fall asleep on you, Al."

"It's no problem. Don't look so embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed! I'm annoyed with myself for infringing on your personal space. Hey, are you hungry?" She reached into a hard plastic lunchbox Al hadn't even realized had been sitting next to her this whole time, and pulled out a sandwich with the crusts sliced away. In the box he could see at least two more before she closed it.

"What kind of sandwich is that?" Al asked as she bit into it.

"Swordfish. But I also have fluffer-nutters." **(This might be a singularly Southern tradition, but I don't care. They're damn good. And in case you don't know what a fluffer-nutter is, it's peanut butter with whipped marshmallow crème. _Awesome!_ And apparently Luna likes them. And swordfish…. She's odd though.)**

"How many sandwiches did you bring with you?" he asked curiously.

"Nine."

"Why so many?"

"Sometimes I feed animals I pass as I'm walking in the night. Dogs like peanut butter. Goats will eat anything. Cats like the fish. Squirrels and birds will eat the bits of bread I throw. Also, nine is a factor of my lucky number."

"What's your lucky number?" He asked the obvious follow-up question as she handed him one of her sandwiches.

"Two thousand, two hundred eighty-six."

"And that's divisible by nine," he said flatly.

"Two hundred fifty-four times nine is 2286."

"Good to know," he mumbled around a bite of fluffer-nutter.

"How long you planning on hanging out with me?" she asked, looking over at him.

"I told Winry I'd be back before sundown."

Luna pointed west. "I think sundown's pretty much on top of us."

"Yeah, I guess so. And when do _you _plan on going home?" he reciprocated.

"Me, I'll be out here for probably five hours or so yet. Sunset is really more like the start for me. I stay up late and wake up late."

"How come?"

"Well, for one thing, I don't like listening to my parents' ministrations at night, so I try to get home after they've already fallen asleep."

"That's the 'one thing,' what's the other reason?"

Luna interested herself in her swordfish sandwich and didn't answer.

"You're not going to answer me? How come?"

"It's personal," she told him.

This reminded Al of the conversation he'd had with Winry in the hospital room. He decided to use the same promise he'd used on Winry. "I won't laugh at you," he assured her.

"I'm not concerned about laughter," she responded. "People laugh at me all the time; I figure I'm fairly amusing. The thing is… I've never told anyone this before…" She twirled a piece of platinum hair around her fingers.

"I told you about my issue with my brother. I hadn't told anyone that either."

"What, are you offering me a trade?"

"Only if that will work," he responded without missing a beat.

Luna blushed and reached up to rub her earlobe in discomfort. "I like the moon."

"The moon? Well, that's not that weird," Al said, frowning slightly as he thought about why that would be so embarrassing for her to admit.

"I… like the moon more than most people."

"You seem to do _everything_ with a little more gusto than most people."

"'Gusto', I like that word." She grabbed the notebook at her side and wrote it in.

"What's that?"

"It's my notebook. I write little phrases and words I like, and sometimes if I come up with poems or short little tidbits of things, I write those in, too. It's a disjointed book of thoughts, for the most part."

"I see." He really _did_ see; over her shoulder he was reading a poem about, oddly enough, sheep; as he got closer the smell of cinnamon became stronger—it reminded him of the apple pie Winry had made for himself and Ed on that first day they'd come home… It was an unforgettable smell for Al, and a fairly strange coincidence that Luna smelled like it.

He inhaled; she noticed; neither of them asked.

"So," said Luna presently, "tell me something. Tell me about you." When he gave her a funny _what-do-you-mean?_ look, she went into more detail. "How you're feeling right now. Things that happened when you were a kid that stuck in your head. Things that make you want to dance. Things you like, things you hate. Things that aren't fair to you. Things that make you mad! Anything."

"Mostly all I can think about is how annoyed I am at my brother." Also, inexplicably, cinnamon. "What is this about, anyway?"

"So tell me about it," she responded. "I want to hear things about you—about people in general. I want to know how other people think. What goes on up here." She knocked on the top of his head with her knuckle once.

"Uh…" Luna looked at him expectantly, her eyes urging him to speak. "I guess, annoyed… frustrated with him." His uncertainty made it sound like a question. "Is that what you wanted?"

"No, I can work with that," she said, turning and grabbing the marble notebook and opening it to a fresh page. "How do you feel about sandstorms?"

"I… don't… know?" It really was hard to talk with her; she was always on her own train of thought. Luna was the kind of person who didn't think in straight lines or even circles: she was a parallelogram kind of girl.

"Would you say you feel forgotten?" she asked, tapping her bottom lip with the eraser of the pencil.

"Er, somewhat. I guess it's accurate…"

"Ever been in a sandstorm?"

"I've been in a desert," he offered.

"That's cool. Me, I've never left home, but I've read about sandstorms, and I think I can imagine it fairly decently."

"Good to know." He leaned forward and looked at the paper. "What are you writing?"

"Gerunds to go with 'sandstorm.'"

"Ah." He leaned back, his tone expressing his bemusement. "That's perfectly… weird."

"Mm," she acknowledged blankly as she scribbled down a long list of words that were at first all gerunds, but eventually became other parts of speech, nouns and adjectives and all manner of sandstorm-related thoughts, sometimes short phrases. The handwriting was quick and scribbly, and she didn't appear to be trying to make the words into any sort of rhyme or reason.

"I hope there's a method to your madness," Al said, prodding for explanations.

"I dreamed about metaphors."

"Sorry?"

"When I was sleeping on your shoulder. That's what I was dreaming about." Most people would have continued that thought with "It was weird" but Luna said, "It was lovely."

"What's that have to do with anything?" Al asked, trying not to sound rude and not really succeeding.

"You'll see in a minute." Deciding that that was all he would be able to get from her, Al leaned back on the fencepost and watched the sunset, the only sound that of the wind and of Luna scribbling and erasing. She stopped once, only to ask him what things rhymed with "snake."

"Rake, bake, take, make, lake, break, shake, ache, fake, wake, mistake, flake, milkshake," Al rattled off without trying to understand—he'd realized that there was no understanding her, and that he had to just let her do her own thing.

"Good ones," she acknowledged, smiling. "Lake works. A _sandy_ lake." She turned back to the notebook, which she was no longer allowing Al to see, and wrote some more. Presently she looked up again. "Do animals invent things? I mean, _can_ they?"

"Monkeys can use tools," Al offered helpfully.

"If I was personifying them," she clarified.

"Then I guess it would depend on what they were inventing."

"Yeah," she said, pressing her lips together in thought, then she shook her head. "No, that's a poor verb." She erased something in the notebook.

It didn't seem like long at all—the sun was gone, but some light still remained in the sky, so it wasn't quite twilight when Luna dropped her pencil on the ground with a sigh of finality.

Al looked up. "So what was that about?"

"See for yourself," she said, passing the notebook over.

Al took it from her, having to squint because of the increasingly poor lighting and the eraser marks that made it hard to read the actual words, and read the poem that she had composed there.

"twirling, twisting, circling, rising

enraged and defensive, a venomous snake

enveloping the golden rocky dunes

filling the cracks with what it withdraws

howling, spinning, screaming, writhing

reaching the horizon, a sandy lake

animals escape, seeking out underground earthen rooms

the sky devours the desert, scratching the surface raw

solo in the center, the torrent buffets a man in hiding

he remembers once-friends, lowered heads, giving slow, shameful shakes

cast from the oasis, as forgotten as midnight at noon

he falters, then whispers goodbye as the storm opens its jaws"

Al stared at it, rereading a few times until he thought he'd grasped the metaphor, then looked up at her. "This is really good, you know."

She took the notebook back from him. "I'll read it out loud—you should hear it how it sounds in my head." She did exactly that—her dynamic way of reading was probably the most entertaining thing about the poem, actually. She spoke so loudly during the parts describing the rage of the storm, that she might have been shouting—luckily there was no one on the road to give them funny looks—but when the anger of the storm died down and was replaced with the mournful man being forgotten, Luna's voice died down to an eerie whisper.

When she was done, Al stood up.

"What did you think?" she asked him, without acknowledging the fact that he was standing.

"I don't know what to think," he admitted.

"Are you going home now?" she asked.

"Yes, I said I'd come home at sundown, and that's already come and gone, so I should get home before my family gets worried."

"Yes, you wouldn't want that," she said without conviction—in Luna's case, she would be overjoyed if her family would get worried about her once in a while—but even though she'd agreed that Al should get going , she grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Wait." She tore out the page from her notebook and folded it so it was small enough to fit in his pocket. "Take it with you."

"I couldn't—"

"Nonsense," she interrupted. "I've got more than enough poems in this notebook, what's one less? And besides, it was you who inspired me to think of it."

"Well…" he hesitated.

"Keep it," she commanded gently, pressing the paper into her palm as she, too, stood up, gathering her notebook and her lunchbox, and headed down the road in the opposite direction to the way Al had to go to get home. "I have somewhere else to be anyway," Luna lied, then she walked away before he could say anything more.

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**I think 2286 is my new favorite number--God, I just love being in Luna's head! It's kind of like being able to say or be whoever I want without consequence or logic--really refreshing!

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**

**Next chapter, "The Stallion on the Telephone"**

_"Why—" she wiped the heavily falling tears from her face so she could glare more effectively— "why is it that no one cares but me?"_

_"What are you talking about?" Al repeated, taken aback by her strong reaction._

_"Winry…" Ed murmured in her ear, "You're freaking out." He put his hands on her shoulders to try to comfort her._

_"For fuck's sake!" she burst out, shoving Ed away violently, "I spend my whole life wondering if you're going to come back in a coffin! You could at least be man enough to_ pretend_ like you care!"_


	65. The Stallion on the Telephone

**I dunno if I've mentioned it lately, but you readers are freakin' awesome. I totally love you. Which is why it pains me to say I don't think I can keep up with this story's daily posting! It takes a lot of time to type up these chapter, especially now that I've been setting the personal bar for myself at 2k words per chapter--it's insanely hard to type that much per night, plus editing, and schoolwork piles up as well. **

**So, readers: This story would be nothing (or rather, precious little) without you guys, and I'm going to present the decision directly to you. Do you prefer short, _daily_ chapters of about 600-1000 words, or longer chapters between 2000-2800 words, but which would get posted every _other_ day? Please tell me in a review or a PM, and depending on the response I get I will modify the way I handle this story.**

**I don't own FMA.**

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_Rrrring. _

_Rrrring. _

"The phone's ringing," Meta noted disinterestedly as she sat at the kitchen table, doing her homework.

"Ed, get it," said Winry, "I gotta watch the pasta."

Ed was already halfway to the phone as she was talking. "Congratulations, you've just called the best automail shop in the world, Rockbell Automail."

"Pretentious!" Winry mouthed at him, but she was blushing.

Ed grinned at her briefly, then scowled when he heard the voice on the line. "Ugh, it's _you,_" he groaned.

Winry gave him a _who-the-hell-are-you-talking-to-like-that?_ look, and Ed mouthed, "The Colonel," which made Winry roll her eyes.

Ed listened for a second, then leaned forward as if Mustang was telling him something interesting. "Where and when?" Mustang's chuckle could be heard through the receiver, then his voice mumbling the information Ed had requested. He asked a question that made Ed's face fall. "Actually, I'm not sure … Yeah—you know what?—Shut up! I'll deal with it myself! … No I'll still go—hell, you think I'd back out just because of familial … WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT!" Ed slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"Don't break it," Pinako said mildly as she walked through the kitchen to go to the hall closet and grab a pile of shop towels (the ones in the workshop were all too grease-covered to use at the moment).

"I'm not gonna break it," Ed said in a tone that dismissed her exaggeration.

"So what was that about?" Winry asked him.

"Uh, Mustang wants me to go… uh, actually—no, don't worry about it." He slipped out of the room and headed upstairs before she could press him for information.

Winry passed Meta (the only person left in the room) a _what-was-that? _look. Meta shrugged. "That was weird."

* * *

Ed couldn't help mumbling a string of cusswords to himself as he slipped out of the kitchen and escaped to the patient room. He had two days to show up in Central before the job got passed to someone else, and in that two days, he had to A) figure out what to do about his Al problem and solve it, and B) find a way to explain to Winry that he was leaving—after what had happened last time he'd left, he doubted she would want him going anywhere (he had a feeling the whole family was soured on the Hamick Hotel).

It wasn't as if he couldn't turn down the mission, but Mustang had made this a matter of pride—god_damn_ that colonel! If Ed backed out, Mustang would almost certainly say that he was so dependent on his little brother's approval that he couldn't even go anywhere without him—so that would make Ed look weak, which was of course totally unacceptable.

No, he couldn't say no now, so he'd have to figure out a way to reconcile with Al—if there was indeed something going on, which he really couldn't be sure of. The Winry issue was inescapable, but he figured he could get away with leaving and not telling her where he was going. He'd done it a million times over the years, so she'd probably pout, but be over it by the time he got back.

The mission was fairly short—Mustang had estimated two weeks, but Mustang clearly underestimated Ed's ability to get an evaluation done—and the job was simply to go up to Lior and give a report on the condition of the city and how the reconstruction was going: estimates of the number of unemployed, homeless, and orphaned; Ed would also have to check out the use of government reconstruction funds and make sure none was being wasted, and if it was necessary, suggest a new figure for the building projects. Before he could visit the city, however, Ed had to go to Central and pick up some paperwork, just boring government stuff he could procrastinate, saving until the train ride home.

Two days was tomorrow and the day after, so Ed would work out some kind of arrangement tomorrow with Al, then if all went well they would take a red-eye train to Central the following morning—and that would be on the government's tab, too, so it was all good.

The iffy part was the Al bit of the equation.

That evening, Al had showed up later than he'd said he would—Ed had waited in the kitchen, pretending to read the alchemy book he'd been struggling through all afternoon, and when the sky had turned blue, then black, and the stars had started to pop in one by one, Winry had gotten concerned and had come downstairs to wait in the chair beside him.

"He said he'd be back by sundown…" she fretted to herself.

"He's probably fine," Ed assured her, but he wasn't nearly as confident as he acted.

"Sundown," she repeated, getting up to push open the curtains and peer out. "What if something's happened?"

"Don't talk like that," he ordered, "He probably just lost track of time… talking to someone in the road or something."

"Mm," she said in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

There was anxious silence for what Ed could swear was hours, but eventually Al walked in the door. Winry, who had long since fallen silent and was pretending she wasn't crying, nearly lost her balance jumping up and running over to him.

"Good God!" she exclaimed, hugging him, "Do you know how worried I… _we_'ve been?" Ed was glad she'd corrected herself.

"What are you talking about?" Al asked, not able to keep his tone entirely neutral. "I said I'd be back… Why are you crying?"

She released him and rearranged her face into an angry glare. "Where the hell were you? What makes you think you can waltz off without saying where you're going, come back ages later than you say, and then just expect us to forget all about it!" She stepped back, accidentally bumping into Ed but not seeming to notice. "Why—" she wiped the heavily falling tears from her face so she could glare more effectively— "why is it that no one cares but me?"

"What are you talking about?" Al repeated, taken aback by her strong reaction.

"Winry…" Ed murmured in her ear, "You're freaking out." He put his hands on her shoulders to try to comfort her.

"For fuck's sake!" she burst out, shoving Ed away violently, "I spend my whole life wondering if you're going to come back in a coffin! You could at least be man enough to _pretend_ like you care!" She turned and ran upstairs, tripping again in her haste, which made the effect less dramatic.

Ed and Al looked at each other with identical bewildered faces, and in the back of his mind Ed decided this was not the time to try to talk to Al about the mission he'd been offered.

He'd tried at least four times the next day, but every time Ed tried to talk to him, the conversation went something like this:

"Hey, Al, can I talk to you about something?"

"What do you need, Ed?" Al would ask coldly.

"Uh… never mind." And Ed would quickly walk away before anyone who actually _cared_ (like Winry, Pinako, or, interestingly enough, Meta) tried to comment.

Ed would then go somewhere secluded and mentally beat himself over the head for not being able to talk about it. _Be a man,_ he would order himself. _Just get the damn thing over with. _But then, when he would go back to try again, he just couldn't make himself say it. Ed hated to admit he was scared to ask his brother if he was angry with him, but hell, there was no avoiding it, Ed was _scared_ to ask!

When night rolled around, and he realized he still hadn't done it, Ed felt like physically smashing himself over the head with something. He considered telling Winry that he was leaving—she would be sure to hit him if she knew—but then, he was feeling _flagellant_, not _suicidal_, so perhaps telling Winry wasn't the best idea.

* * *

It had become sort of the routine that, after everyone had gone to bed, Ed would visit her in her room, which most nights would lead to them getting as physical as they dared considering Pinako was in a room down the hall, so Winry knew there was something wrong when he didn't show. _And come to think of it, he's been distant all day_, she added to herself. _Something is definitely going on. _She'd left her room in her nightshirt and socks, and tiptoed to the patient room.

It was dark, but there were clearly two figures on the bed: Ed, sitting up and not even kidding himself that he was sleeping, and beside him, a suitcase.

"Ed," she said, sounding hurt, "You're leaving?"

"Huh?" He jerked and looked at her, startled, until he realized who it was. Then he sighed and sank. "Yeah… I'm leaving."

Tears stung at her eyes, but Winry tried not to cry—she did that too often. "How long? Where are you going? Is this what General Mustang called you about yesterday?"

"Not long, and yes, but please don't tell Al… I'm trying to figure out how to tell him. I just don't know what's with me…"

"You don't want to talk to him about this? How come?"

"He's still mad at me, Winry, and it's not just that—well, it's not like he won't talk to me—it's just that we can't seem to talk comfortably with each other and… I mean, how can I talk to him about this little thing when we can't even communicate properly about the big things? I feel like an idiot for not being able to, but—ah, hell. I sound like a girl, don't I? A whiny frickin' girl." His hands came up and covered his face.

"Stop it," she told him, "you don't sound like a girl. You sound like a concerned older brother, and you have every right to be." She sat down beside him and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "Where are you going, anyway?" She couldn't hide the edge to her voice.

"A stupid evaluation mission. It shouldn't take long, but… I've never been on one without him."

"You're leaving tonight?" she asked, glancing at his suitcase.

"Technically this morning. Red-eye train. Got two tickets but, what's the point? If I go tell him about it now he'll roll his eyes or laugh in my face."

"That doesn't sound like Al. You're exaggerating."

"Yeah, well, this weird 'distant' thing he's been pulling lately doesn't sound like Al either! I don't know this side of him, Winry, and it's damn frustrating!"

She didn't know what to tell him. "You'll figure it out," she assured him, then she pressed her lips to his cheek before standing up and tiptoeing out to leave him with his thoughts.

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**Next chapter...**

_"Al! Al! Wake up!"_

_Al's eyes flew open and he stared at Winry. "What's going on?"_

_"Did Ed wake you up in the middle of the night? Did he say anything to you? Did he say where he was going?"_

_"No, no, and no—what are you talking about? He_ left?_"_

_Winry covered her face with her hands. "No! Ed, you idiot!"_


	66. Baka Ed

**I've decided to keep up the daily chapters but to try to keep them less in the 2-2.5k word range and closer to the .8-1.4k word range. That should be effective to lighten up the load without sacrificing posting speed. (Which is good news. I actually write more when the chapters are shorter. When the chapters are long I get bored. You can tell 'cause I'll write oneshots or other stories. Speaking of which, be on the lookout for another oneshot of mine, today or tomorrow. And hooray for kiddie!EdWin, the cutest kind there is!**

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"Al! Al! Wake up!" This had to be the hundred millionth time Al had been roused with those urgent words, but very rarely was the one rousing him not his older brother.

On alert by her panicked tone, Al's eyes flew open and he stared at Winry. "What's going on?"

"Did Ed wake you up in the middle of the night? Did he say anything to you? Did he say where he was going?"

"No, no, and now—what are you talking about? He _left?_"

Winry covered her face with her hands. "No! Ed, you idiot!"

"What'd he do?" Al asked.

"He's gone! He left! And I told him—"

Al grabbed her shoulders to make her focus. "Where'd he go?"

"Don't know, he never told me exactly where. On a mission, I think."

"Why'd he leave without telling me? We always went together…"

"I know! He told me he thought you were mad at him—he thought you would get even more upset if he told you he wanted to leave Resembool again."

Al looked injured. "He left… without me… because he thought I was mad at him?"

"I told him to talk to you about it… but he wouldn't—he didn't…" She hiccupped, trying to hold back her sobs so she could answer his questions. "I can't believe him—what an idiot! Al…" She looked at him, trying to understand what the shameful look on his face was for. "Are you okay? Are you actually mad at him now?"

"Actually…" he echoed in a small voice. "… Actually, I _was_ mad at him."

"You… you… _what?_ But… then, he was right?"

"No!" Al denied quickly. "I mean—yes—but I wouldn't have been angry just because he'd gotten called on a mission! Now I'm even more mad at him for leaving!" He stood up, throwing the blankets off of himself, and went to the dresser to rummage for some cleanish clothes.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "You can't possibly catch him now—he told me it was a red-eye train. He's been gone for hours."

"I'm not going to the _station,_ Winry," he said. "It's just that I have to talk to someone—I have a feeling about this."

* * *

She wasn't on the road where he'd met with her these past few days—that was understandable, given that he didn't expect her to live in the middle of the road—but it would be more convenient if she were here, just this once.

That was okay, though—he knew where her house was. Al hurried over to the Turner residence, which was actually quite a hike from the Rockbell place, but he practically ran the whole way, so it didn't take long at all.

Laura Turner, Luna's mother, answered the door. She was in a dressing-gown, and she looked as if she had woken perhaps only half an hour or so before. She gave him a frowning _who-are-you?_ look. "Yes?"

"Hi, Mrs. Turner—I need to talk to Luna, is she awake?"

"Do I know you?" she asked, frowning even harder.

Al got this reaction a lot from people who had known him when he was younger, but didn't recognize him because his body had aged while he was stuck in the armor. He never sounded annoyed when they asked him who he was. It wasn't their faults. "I'm Alphonse Elric."

Her silver eyes (same color as Luna's) lit up with recognition. "Oh! Well, I'm sorry, but Luna's still asleep in her room. What was it you needed? I'll tell her when she wakes up."

"This is kind of urgent," she said, "Can I please go up to her room and just ask her this one thing? I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"No, she wouldn't mind at all," Laura Turner said disapprovingly. She felt like she hardly knew her daughter at all! "I guess you may go up. But make it quick."

"Of course," said Al, and he stepped around her and hurried upstairs.

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**Next chapter--A stroke of good fortune! Luna knows where Ed went! The real question is, what will Al do about it?**

**I don't own FMA; please review!**


	67. Luna Tick

**Hi, guys. This chapter is being posted about three hours later than the usual time, and that's because I was pouting about something stupid and didn't want to give you any more chapters... I don't know. Pay me no mind, just a silly author...**

**I don't own FMA.

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**

When he knocked on her door a couple times and she actually answered, Al realized she wasn't asleep as her mother had thought—she was dressed (today she was wearing a knee-length black chiffon dress with a green silk sash, a red bow in her hair, and blue sneakers that look like they had been colored on with marker, and of course tucked under the dress was her talisman, which was today filled with partially crushed dried vanilla pods) and she looked as if she was expecting him. "I knew you would come," she mumbled as she turned away from the door, letting him follow her in.

"Huh?"

She tapped her skull. "I'm fairly psychic. Also, I knew it wouldn't be long before you realized Ed had gone."

"So you did know! All right!" Al celebrated. "I was hoping you might have seen him as he left, because you said you stay out late in the night…"

"Yes, I did see him—spoke to him actually."

Al leaned forward, clinging to her every nonchalant word. "What did he say? Please tell me he told you where he was going! He wouldn't tell Winry, and I have to find him…" _And apologize_, Al added silently.

"You want to say sorry… to make him understand that you're still his brother and not as mad as all that," Luna guessed.

"It's like you're reading my mind," he muttered.

"More like reading your face—you're an open book," she responded as she went to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a canvas sack full of something with an apparently irregular surface—Al's first guess was sunflower seeds. "I stopped him on the road because he had a suitcase and I thought it might be full of pirate treasure or perhaps another suitcase, so of course I had to ask." Also, she'd known that Al was upset and she had to make sure Ed wasn't doing anything stupid, but that was the boring and fairly obvious reason so she didn't feel the need to include it.

"So you stopped and asked…" Al prompted when Luna sat down on the bed and started eating out of the sack, which had turned out to be full of raisins, but didn't continue immediately.

"Oh, were you expecting the whole story, then?" she asked mildly. Clearly the basic assumption that people finished all the stories they started did not apply to Luna Helena Sisley Turner.

"Yes. I would like to know what my brother said to you."

"Well, at first he just said, 'Leave me alone, tick,' which, as you remember, is what they would call me when I was in elementary school" Yes, Al remembered—it was originally Luna Tick, as in 'lunatic,' but that had gotten too long to say so the kids had shortened it to 'tick' "—so that made me want to hit him or something," Luna continued, "but I'm often a pacifist, so violence was out. I got up and said goodbye to the star I was babysitting, and followed him a bit, trying to pump him for information, you know."

"Did it work?"

"Not really," she sighed, chewing on a raisin thoughtfully, "I did find out he's excellent at finding synonyms for 'weird.'"

"I'm sorry my brother was insulting you."

"Don't apologize for him—I find it doesn't really work, seeing as you're not the same person." Al didn't really know what to say to that, so Luna went on. "Anyway, I think I eventually wore him down, because he began to give me some answers—monosyllabic at first, but disyllabic after a bit—when I asked him where he was headed, he said 'Away,' and when I asked when he would be back he said 'Later,' so I figured it was working and all I needed was patience." She popped another pair of raisins into her mouth, then spun the bag closed and tucked it away in her dresser again. "I like raisins, but they get stuck in my teeth if I eat too many," she explained. "Wish I had more swordfish sandwiches, those were nice."

"Uh-huh…" Al sensed he was really going to have to squeeze her if he wanted information. "So you were walking on the road with my brother…"

"Yes, yes I was. Well, eventually I got tired of disyllabic responses and the occasional 'leave me alone, Insane Girl,' so I asked him if he was leaving because of you—gosh, you should've seen the look on his face when I brought you into the conversation! He went from this very irritated, set-jaw expression to a totally blindsided and somewhat injured expression. I swear, if you watch peoples' faces you can find out all sorts of things about their personalities. For example, right now, you're getting annoyed with my going off on tangents, but you're trying to be patient because you're worried about your brother and you need to know what I know." She sat down on the floor, placing her palms flat on the wood, and did a brief handstand, which she almost immediately fell out of. "I can never get the hang of those."

"Luna, if you know so much about my thoughts just by reading my face, why can't you just tell me what I want to know?" Al refused to get pulled away from the subject at hand.

"Straightforwardness isn't my style?" she suggested, and just like that her mind was off in another direction. "I wonder what it's like to lose one's virginity."

"I wouldn't know," Al said, turning slightly pink in the ears. "Luna, can you _please_ try to focus for a minute?"

"I don't focus until sundown," she informed him. "Right now I'm extremely tired from staying up late, but I suppose I can try, for your sake."

"Please do," Al responded, putting his hands together in front of him like he was praying or transmuting something. "Continue with the story."

"Okay. Let me think…. So I hadn't been getting very far with Ed, because he wouldn't answer, then I mentioned you and that stopped him short. But only for a second! Then he turned away and scowled and kept walking and said, 'What do _you_ know?' In a very rude way, just like that.

"'I know that your brother is very distressed by things that have driven a wedge between you lately,' I said. 'I also know that secretly, Al wants to reconcile with you. And I also know hat reconciliation doesn't work so well if one of the parties isn't present.'

"'How much has he told you?' Ed asked, and I could tell that he was upset, thinking you had confided in me more than him. I said I refused to tell him what I knew until he told me where he was going. He grimaced at me, then sort of muttered, 'I'm going to Central; there's someone I need to see and it won't wait.'"

"Central City!" Al exclaimed, interrupting Luna as she tried to continue. "That's all I need! Thank you, thank you, thank you, you're the cleverest girl in the world!" He hugged her suffocatingly, then released her and dashed out of her room abruptly.

Cocking her head, Luna stared at the door, a gut feeling telling her to wait. Seconds later, Al reappeared in the room. "Maybe I might also want to know what he said about me."

"Yes, I thought so," she said. "I imagine the thought went something like, 'Wait, do I want to go chasing after him without finding out what he said to Luna after she told him what I'd told her?'"

"So he _did _say something about it."

"Yes. He said, 'Damn it, I knew Al was pissed at me—shit I'm going to miss my train—hey Tick, you've been hanging out with him, right? Would you please not tell him where I'm going? I need time to… you know, figure all this out. And I don't need him around to complicate things.'" She seemed to have a talent for exact quotations, because Al heard his brother's voice in every word.

"So Brother doesn't want me," Al summarized, crestfallen.

"It didn't seem to me like he didn't want you so much as he didn't think you wanted him," Luna noted. "The words were misleading—you should've seen his face. That was what was really telling me the story."

Al was silent for a moment. "So what do I do?"

"I don't know," Luna responded honestly. "I've got no relationship skills to speak of, so maybe it's not such a good idea to ask me."

Al sighed, closing his eyes, then opened them again after a moment and turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to tell Winry where he went, at least."

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**No chapter preview this time. I'm being lazy. Please review!**


	68. Mustang: Alchemist, General, Coward?

_Damn it, Ed! I'm going to bash your face in so deep it'll get stuck in the soles of your feet!_ Winry thought violently, half hoping that somewhere in the world Ed would get a shiver down his spine at her gory fantasies, realize that he was making a huge mistake, and come running back to Resembool so she could smash him, up close and personal.

Central Station was perhaps the most impersonal and people-filled place in Amestris in Winry's opinion. The platform was apparently the exception to the rule of personal space among strangers, because she was frequently squashed like a sardine among the throng, and the bodies of strangers became both a solid, impenetrable wall as well as a machine, propelling her forward and back and this way and that way and whichever way it felt like, regardless of where she actually wanted to go—that is, out of the station! The crowded place was enough to give even a girl as tough as Winry a case of claustrophobia.

It was almost scary to know how anonymous she was when she was in Central—anything at all could happen to her and there would be no one around to help or even notice her if she got into trouble. It was a scary thought. Too scary; she banished it and hailed a cab to take her to the capitol building.

"Do you have an _appointment_ with General Mustang?" asked the nasal-sounding woman Winry talked to at the reception desk at Central Headquarters.

"I don't need an _appointment_," Winry said, mocking the woman's condescending tone. "General Mustang knows who I am; he won't wait to see me." Not when he realized how pissed off she was.

"I'll send someone up with you, in that case." The look on her face told Winry what the receptionist couldn't say without getting fired: _We don't trust you not to try any funny business, so we're sending a chaperone. _

Winry scowled and didn't speak a single word to Private Pollock who walked her up to Mustang's office.

"Winry," said Hawkeye in surprise, standing and walking out from behind her desk to give Winry a hug. "What a surprise to see you here."

"You don't sound all that surprised," Winry noted while Private Pollock walked away wordlessly.

"To be perfectly plain with you, I knew Ed was lying about Al having 'opted not to come along.' I figured it would be a matter of time before you or Al showed up here."

"You know us so well," Winry joked.

"Ed uses fancy words when he's lying," Riza replied. "Who says 'opted'? Anyway, I'm sure you haven't come here to have a conversation with me—the General's in the next room, and you can go right in. Don't knock; he'll say he's busy with paperwork, but that's just because he's pouting because I made him sit down and actually _do_ his paperwork."

Winry smiled. "Thanks, Riza." She went to the closed door and paused a moment, setting her face into the angry expression she desired, then she burst in abruptly. "Where is he and why the hell did you let him leave without telling us?"

Mustang looked up, startled, then settled back into his seat when he realized who it was. "Nice to see you again, Winry, and in such high spirits! I'm fine, and yes, the weather _is_ lovely this time of year! What's that? –You're kindly requesting to know the whereabouts of your boyfriend? Why, I'd be delighted to tell you he's doing a short evaluation in the city of Lior. And what else is it you wished to know? Why I let him go without reporting back to you first?" He leaned forward and darkened his tone to a more irritated form of sarcasm. "Maybe it's because I don't _own_ him!"

"Yeah, but you could at least have a little concern for his family and whether or not he's abandoning us! It's like you're barely human!"

"Don't pin this on me! _I'm_ not the one who 'abandoned' you. Take it up with _him_!"

"I will! In fact, I'll get a train to Lior right now!" Winry turned on her heel and stormed out—then turned around and stomped back in. "And _you!_ I forgot there was something else I have to yell at you about!"

Mustang grinned—it was kind of funny to watch her tromping around indecisively. "What's that?"

"You're a coward!"

"What?" Mustang put his thumb and middle finger together and brandished his whole hand dangerously. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Winry pointed at the closed door behind her, referring to Hawkeye, who was in the office beyond. "What are you going to do about that?"

He twitched. "I wasn't aware that anything had to be done."

"You're an idiot if you're not lying to me," she shot back.

"I don't even know what the hell you're babbling about, _little girl._" He added the last bit just to point out that he wasn't her peer to be criticized freely.

Winry pressed her lips together tightly, and when she spoke again, it was in a low voice that let him know she wasn't playing. "Get your shit together." She stormed out—for real this time—and waved amiably to Riza as she left.

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**This chapter is almost filler-ish, which is why I gave it some comedic elements, too. Next chapter we go into Riza's retirement situation as I mentioned in an AN forever ago. Unfortunately I wasn't able to work in all the elements I wanted to in this chapter and next one, so those details will have to be worked in at a later date. There are just some things that exist without making it into a story--especially when it comes to the very secretive nature of the Royai pairing.**

**Next chapter, a conversation between Riza and Olivia as I mentioned, as well as a dialogue-less update on what's happening with Ed while Winry's hunting him down.

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_"How's your paperwork coming?" she hinted._

_"I just got yelled at about my love life by a_ teenager_. She told me to _get my shit together._" He paused for effect. "The paperwork can wait."_

_Riza resisted the urge to severely injure her superior officer. "Maybe she wouldn't have told you to _get your shit together_ if your shit were actually _together_. Do the paperwork," she commanded._

_"Argh," he lamented, dropping his head to the desk. "I don't even get what she _meant_!" _

_"Try not to act like an angsty thirteen-year-old girl, General," Riza said as she walked out and left him to his work._


	69. Retirement and Promotions

**I don't own FMA. **

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Riza walked into the General's office after Winry had left. He was sitting at his desk, staring straight ahead, seeing nothing.

"How's your paperwork coming?" she hinted.

"I just got yelled at about my love life by a _teenager._ She told me to _get my shit together_." He paused for effect. "The paperwork can wait."

Riza resisted the urge to severely injure her superior officer. "Maybe she wouldn't have told you to _get your shit together_ if your shit were actually _together_. Do the paperwork," she commanded.

"Argh," he lamented, dropping his head to the desk. "I don't even get what she _meant!" _

"Try not to act like an angsty thirteen-year-old girl, General," Riza said as she walked out and left him to his work.

* * *

"Colonel Hawkeye," said Olivia Armstrong, who had just arrived while Riza had been in Mustang's office talking to him. "Glad I've caught you."

Riza saluted, but it was an unnecessary formality; the two women had become close friends through their common love/hate relationships with a certain alchemist. "What brings you here, Fuhrer Armstrong?" Riza asked with a slight edge to her voice.

"The same thing that's kept me coming here for the past three weeks, Riza," Armstrong replied. "I want to remind you…"

"I know you're doing this with my interests in mind, Olivia," Riza cut across her, "but I'm going to respectfully decline, just like every other time you've asked me."

"Riza, I don't think you've really even considered it," Olivia retorted, expending a lot of effort to keep her voice level. "This could be an opportunity to pursue some of your other interests. You don't seem to appreciate all you have going for you, and after that scare one would think you'd be a little more eager to get away. Riza, you don't have to cling to this job just because you're scared to move on."

"I'm not clinging to this job, Olivia!" Riza shot back. She paused, then adjusted her tone. "I have responsibilities, a duty to my country and to the promises I've made. I'm not retiring—and I'm not clinging. Excuse me; I have work to do." She stepped around her desk and distracted herself with an inconsequential bit of paperwork, an authorization for something or other concerning an upcoming military event; some stupid ball, actually, and the authorization was misfiled, because Mustang's department mostly handled the state alchemy program, not event coordination. She would have to send it down to its proper office. _Actually,_ Riza thought, _better take it down myself and get away from the Fuhrer before she starts in again. _"I have to go take this up to Kessler in Event Coordination. I'll see you later, Olivia."

* * *

"Wow, this is the most pointless letter I've ever received," Ed noted to no one as he looked at the fancy stationery upon which was printed the notification that for reasons of "exemplary service to the state" he had been promoted from Major to Lt. Colonel.

He'd emptied his P.O. box in Central before catching the train that would take him where he wanted to go, and so far since he had left home only two interesting things had happened to him and neither were even good things.

First, he'd come across a letter for Al in the box, which was an excellent guilt trip. And second, he'd had a scare when he'd thought he'd seen Winry on the crowded platform of Central Station.

Other than those two things, Ed had done little other than stare at various inanimate items dejectedly, though once he'd had to actually get up and look alive, putting on a show for Mustang and Hawkeye. That had been… not a _refreshing change_, because he didn't feel refreshed, but rather, a sort of variety in life, which Ed passively tolerated.

So now he was a Lieutenant Colonel. What use was that to anyone? They might as well promote a dead turtle for all the good it did the world.

The train ride was long and his private car was little more than a glorified closet with a WC attached, but Ed didn't really mind that so much as he minded the military driver who drove him the rest of the way into Lior (no trains went directly into the city). The man just wouldn't shut up; he insisted on making conversation the whole way, and Ed had to fake like he was taking a nap in order to get the man's chatter to subside to the occasional comment.

The real pain of this operation was all the trouble Ed would have to go through in evaluating the city itself. Cities are notoriously non-small places. It wasn't like homework from school, where he could get it done the night before it was due… Ah, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

As he got out of the car, bidding a hasty goodbye to his overly talkative driver, Ed's first priority was getting a place to sleep for the night. And if he couldn't find any inns that would put him up, that was something that needed to be mentioned in the report. Gah, the report… Ed groaned aloud just to think about it. What a pain.

On the upside, he would get to see Rose, whom he knew Al and Winry had met sometime before the Promised Day but whom he hadn't seen in what felt like forever. Furthermore, despite the antisocial way Ed acted, he actually liked people, especially kids, and evaluating a recovering city pretty much _required _him to speak with the people. This was made all the more appetizing a concept by the fact that Little Miss Distracting Mechanic wasn't going to be around to drive him insane in eight different ways.

It turned out that there was only one hotel with available rooms—apparently the majority of the part of town with all the inns and tourist traps had been spared the brunt of the destruction in the civilian uprising, so many of the inhabitants had taken up temporary residence in these hotels while the housing areas were being rebuilt. The result of this was that it was very hard for visitors such as Ed to get a room. He got out of that problem the usual way; aka, being a smartass and confusing everybody until the hotel manager just handed him a key and pointed at the stairs.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

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**Next chapter, Remember that lie Winry told to get herself allowed into Ed's hospital room after hours? Finally, the shit hits the fan.**

_"Hey!"_

_"What?" Ed frowned boredly at the man who'd hailed him over._

_"I just wanted to warn out that your wife is up in your room waiting on you."_

_Ed was immediately angry. "What the hell? I don't __have a wife! I'm freaking sixteen! Who the hell did you send up to my room?"_

_The hotel employee changed colors immediately. "She had a picture of you and her, and you looked pretty buddy-buddy… and she had a ring, and she was kinda scary to tell you the truth…"_

_"Kinda scary?" he repeated. "And she had a ring?" His stomach turned to lead; hell if that wasn't physically possible. "What'd she look like?"

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**Please review!**_  
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	70. Ed Finds Out He's Married

**I don't own FMA.**

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Winry mashed the little bell at the desk for about five minutes before someone came to the desk, an annoyed-looking man in his 20's. "Can't you read the sign? We don't have any more rooms." Yes, there was a sign on top of the desk to that effect, but Winry wasn't looking for a room, she was looking for an occupant.

"Yes, I am aware that there are no more rooms. I'm actually looking for someone and I don't know which of these hotels he's at, but I know he's in one of them, so I've been asking around and someone pointed me here. Can you tell me if the Fullmetal Alchemist has a room in this hotel?"

"No, actually, I can't," he snapped, rubbing his forehead and looking like he had a migraine or perhaps, as was more befitting his age group, a hangover. "For our patrons' privacy, the names and room numbers of occupants are not available to the general public."

Winry pressed her fingers into her closed eyes until bright green and purple spots erupted, then she sighed and opened them again as an idea occurred to her. Last time she had needed to get to Ed and business formalities had gotten in the way, she had used a little white lie to get her way… Could that tactic work again? It was worth a shot. "Look, I'm not just anyone—Ed Elric is my husband. See?" She held out her hand. "There's my ring."

"That's just a ring; it doesn't mean anything," he responded. "It could be anyone's ring."

"Here…" Winry knelt, opened the zipper on her duffel bag, and produced a photo that had been folded and unfolded so many times that the seams had lost their color completely and it looked like it could fall apart at any minute. Still, the photo was still viable, and the people were clearly visible. Ed was in the center, twelve years old, grinning and brandishing his hard-won State Alchemist's watch with his gloved automail hand, one arm around a similarly beaming Winry and leaning against Al (in the armor). "It's not a wedding photo, but at least it proves that he knows me, right? Will you please just tell me if he's here? I need to find him… It's urgent."

He glared at the picture a few seconds, then slumped forward on the desk, putting his head in his hands. "Look, I'm not going to argue with you. I feel like sugar-honey-iced-tea… It's Room 48… please just don't talk so loudly…"

"Sorry," she whispered, unable to help her grin, "Thank you so much!"

* * *

"Hey!"

Ed looked over at the person who'd hailed him; it was the employee he'd had a small argument with before he'd gotten let into the hotel. Despite how tired he was after a long, tedious day of talking to boring construction managers discussing the Lior reconstruction budget, Ed couldn't just ignore the man waving him over.

"What's up?" he asked on he exhale so it sounded like a tired sigh.

"I just wanted to warn you that your wife is up in your room waiting on you."

Ed was immediately angry. "What the hell? I don't _have_ a wife! I'm _sixteen!_ Who the hell did you send up to my room?"

The hotel employee changed colors immediately. "She had a picture of you and her, and you looked pretty buddy-buddy… and she had a ring, and she was kinda scary to tell you the truth…"

"Kinda scary?" he repeated. "And she had a ring?" His stomach turned to lead; hell if that wasn't physically possible. "What'd she look like?"

"Uh… blonde, got really nice legs on her… ah, I don't know really, it's all fuzzy. I was hung over 'round the time she came."

"Thanks, you're a great help," he said sarcastically as he headed for the stairs with a sinking suspicion of who it was.

The door was unlocked, and Ed distinctly remembered locking it when he'd left that morning. The screws on the knob were scratched as if they had been tampered with. _Great._ At least he knew who it was that had gotten in.

She was curled up on the little couch in his room, upright, with her duffel bag on the floor beside her. It looked like she'd dozed off without meaning to.

Ed decided to go for a gentle approach that might yield him some answers, so he knelt in front of the couch.. "Winry. Wake up."

She opened her eyes slowly, then came alert suddenly. "Ed! I didn't hear you come in."

"You fell asleep, I think."

"Oh." She frowned, thinking about something or other, then refocused on him. "_You! _I'm mad at you!"

"How come?" he asked innocently.

"You left us!" she accused.

"I don't remember anyone ever telling me I wasn't allowed to go to work without your permission."

She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You know what I mean!"

"Well, I'm mad at me too," he said to throw her off the scent.

"What?" It worked.

"Yes, I'm mad at myself. You see, I seem to have completely forgotten our wedding day!"

Her skin turned to chalk. "… Oh my God. Who the hell told you?"

"You told a hungover guy with 'Hi, I'm Pryce' written on his nametag that you were my wife. So tell me, Mrs. Elric, why is it that I seem to have no recollection at all of my marriage?"

"Oh, for God's sake…" She covered her face with her hands. "You weren't supposed to find out about that."

"Wait…" he said slowly as another thought occurred to him. "How may times have you pulled this trick?"

"Um… only twice," she admitted.

"Twice!" Ed repeated, throwing his hands up in the air. "And you didn't feel the need to inform me that you married me without my knowledge or consent? For fuck's sake, Winry!"

"In my defense, the first time was an accident! And watch your language," she tacked on as an afterthought.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck," he snapped back childishly. "I'm pissed and I want you to _know_ it!"

"I know it, all right! Sheesh!"

Ed felt the need to physically go over and bang his head on the wall at this point.

"Drama queen," Winry muttered as she watched him.

"What's that, Mrs. Elric?" he retorted. "I don't even know how you got him to believe that, anyway. Aren't you very obviously too young to be married?"

"He was really hung over, I guess. Also, I'm willing to bet he was stupid in the first place."

"Clearly," he said dryly.

"What are you saying?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just that I doubt anyone would marry you."

"What? You've gotta be kidding me! Loads of guys would want to marry me! I'm attractive, and talented, and not a slut like most city girls, and—"

"I know all that already," he cut her off. "You're also sadistic, and controlling and—"

"Edward Elric! I'll—"

"You'll what?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow as if daring her to finish her sentence.

"Damn it," she muttered in defeat.

"Thought so." Ed paused, then rubbed his forehead at the headache forming. He'd expected to come home and go to sleep early (_very_ early; it was about five o'clock) to make up for the tiring day he'd had. Instead, he had to argue with Winry, and her very presence was a headache in the making. "I'm going to take a nap now," he warned her, going to the only bed and using his own feet to pull off his shoes (he left them lay on the floor).

"That's the greeting I get? You yell at me, then go to sleep?"

"Guess I'm not a very good husband," he teased. "Bring me a brandy and a sandwich, bitch."

"You're never going to let this go, are you?"

"Never."

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**I love that "fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck" line. Makes me gigglesnort every time I read it. Also "bring me a sandwich, bitch" --that's pretty amusing too. Hey guys, there's no preview! Wanna know why? Because there is no _chapter!_ I am chagrined to admit that I have been so swamped with work and other obligations that I haven't written tomorrow's chapter yet. And to top it off, my mom thinks I have no life, and she wants me to go out, so I'm going to waste my day bargain shopping at yard sales. I plan on bringing a notebook to hand-write, which I would have to do even if I didn't have ENAT to worry about because I have an FRQ (an essay basically) due on Tuesday for AP Euro. Fun, right? **

**So here's the deal: I'm eighty-four percent certain I'll have the chapter done on time tomorrow, and ninety-seven percent certain that if it's not done ON TIME I'll at least have it done LATE tomorrow. That other three precent is a late chapter with no promise of a bonus to make up for lateness. I'm sorry I've hit this roadblock which is affecting ENAT but that's the way it is right now. **

**Please review! Encouragement makes me want to write more--it really does make writing easier. As do ideas! I've gotten some good ideas from reviewers, actually.**


	71. Id, Ego, Superego

**HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY! In case you haven't noticed, this chapter reaches the 100k-word mark for ENAT! I'm super happy! (Seriously, I was so excited I told my peeps in Creative Writing class 'cause of course they're as writing-geeky as me; when I said "one hundred thousand words" they all sort of cringed and mimed shaking off a writer's cramp. It was funny.) ANYWAY I'm super excited and I think to celebrate this milestone you should all review, like, DEFINITE, give me a zillion freaking reviews and of course_ I'll be counting!_ I'm sure you'll feel compelled to review anyway based on the sheer content of this chapter, but if that's not enough you'll just have to live with the knowledge that if you don't review and I catch you on my Story Stats, I will trace your IP, come to your house, and axe you into little tiny pieces and roast you on a spit and sprinkle you with lemon pepper seasoning and feed you to the people on Hell's Kitchen who never seem to get any food because that mean yelly guy always makes them stop working.**

**Um... yeah. Summary: No review = Painful death.**

**Credit for inspiration goes to amenta bennu, who managed to give me a one-liner review and still got me thinking and made me give myself an idea. And while I'm giving props to my reviewers, JoPo08 tries very hard to be my first reviewer consistently, and last chapter, gave me encouragement so intense it had to be written in CAPITAL LETTERS. XD I love you guys more than druggies love crack, honestly it's ridiculous!

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"Damn," Ed said out loud after a long silence. He was laying on the bed staring at the ceiling, while Winry was still curled up in the couch, no longer sleeping but refusing to move on the basis of "I'm too comfortable right now."

"What?" Winry asked. "What are you damning?"

"Can't go to sleep, now."

"Ah." She lapsed into a sympathetic silence, knowing how irritating it was to be tired and unable to sleep.

"It's your fault."

"Me?" she responded with little interest. She was trying to force herself out of the lethargy she had descended into when they had both fallen silent after Ed had informed her that he was going to sleep. "What did I do?"

"You've got me all... _agitated._ My mind won't shut down." It was just like how he'd felt on Meta and Eli's first day of school.

"I won't apologize. I'm still mad at you as well."

It took a minute for him to realize they were talking about two different things. "Well, that's something to consider, too."

Winry sat up straighter and looked at him. "Wait... what were you talking about, then?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, and went back to staring at the ceiling.

"I hate it when you do that to me," she complained.

"What?"

"Brush me off when you don't want to answer a more personal question."

"I do that to everyone," he said honestly. "It's not like I specifically refuse to answer your questions."

"I've never seen you do that to anyone else. Except maybe Al a couple times, but for the most part..."

"That's because most people don't try to get away with asking me personal questions."

"Get away with it?" she repeated incredulously. "Someone should tell them you're completely harmless! Who'd be stupid enough to think you're intimidating in the first place?"

Ed transmuted his arm into a blade, then held up his right arm and pointed at it with his left. "Intimidation."

"Stop that!" She removed her shoe and chucked it at him.

"And you called _me_ a drama queen," he muttered as he transmuted it back. His comment was met with Winry's other shoe landing on his stomach. "Hey," he said, sitting up suddenly, "Do you think if I annoy you enough you'll take off _all_ your clothes?"

"What? No!" She fumbled around for something else to throw, but her tools were zipped up in her bag. "Noo!" she lamented after a minute of fruitless searching.

Ed leaned back again. "Out of things to fling at me? You're wearing a skirt, aren't you?"

"Screw you," she pouted. "You're not funny."

"Nuh-uh," he retorted. "I'm hilarious."

"Not at all."

"Honestly, Winry, you're lucky you got first dibs. I'm so witty I have women clamoring all over me. I have to break up catfights all the freakin' time. I'm _very_ desirable."

"Right," she said sarcastically. "The only _clamoring_ women do when it comes to you is clamoring to get out before they catch the short virus."

Winry's shoe came soaring back at her, and instead of letting it hit her she caught it. "Yes!" she celebrated. "Ammo!"

"Shoulda seen that coming," Ed muttered.

Winry leaned her head back on the arm of the couch. "Now I have the upper hand in case you try any more funny business."

"If I try any _funny business_, Winry, you won't be the _upper_ anything."

Her shoe connected nicely with his face this time. "What is is with you and the innuendos today?"

"You want the dirty truth or a sugar-coated lie?"

"Truth, Ed, always the truth, I hate it when people lie to me."

"You're... when you're angry it's really, uh..." He paused, fumbling for the right word, then sighed and began a new sentence. "It's sexy when you're mad at me."

"More innuendos. I can't even get a straight answer out of you," she groused.

"That _was_ your answer."

"In that case, my answer to your answer is that you better make nice with your hand because you're not getting anywhere with me at this point."

"My han... Oh, right," Ed felt his ears and the back of his neck heating up. He hadn't expected Winry to be as capable of innuendo as he.

"No comment?" she joked. "Or are you going back to sleep?"

"The latter." At least she'd given him an out.

"I'll shut up."

She did so.

For about five minutes.

"Why did you tell Luna where you were going, but not me or Al?" she asked suddenly.

"She was persistent and I wanted to get her out of my face." That was all there was to it.

"So that's what it takes to get information out of you? If we're mean and annoying you'll tell us whatever, but you won't say a damn thing to anyone who's patient and understanding!"

"Are you crying?" he asked, guessing by the tremble in her voice. When he sat up and looked over at Winry, he saw that she had turned away so that she was facing into the back of the couch, her face no longer visible.

"I'm just frustrated!"

He got up and walked over to the little couch, sitting on the end, having to push her feet a little to do so. "At me?" he clarified.

"At myself!"

"Why?" he asked, stumped by her logic.

"I can't explain right..." she mumbled into the somewhat scratchy khaki-colored couch.

"Would you try, if only to put my mind at ease?" he begged her, trying very hard not to sound annoyed at the way getting information out of her was like pulling teeth.

"I'm just useless, you know!" She sat up so she could wave her hand vaguely, if dramatically.

"I don't follow you," Ed admitted.

"I just... I can't... I can't..." Words failing her, Winry launched forward suddenly and embraced him, tucking her face in his shoulder and sobbing more freely. "Why can't I make you stay?"

"Oh, shi... c'mon, please don't do this, Win..." He put his arms around her awkwardly. "It's not you, y'know... it's me..." _I feel like shit, _he thought._ This is all my fault._

"I don't... under... stand..."

"Please... c'mon, stop crying," Ed begged, feeling painfully responsible.

"It's your fault!" she blurted out suddenly, beating a fist on the arm of the couch just beyond his shoulder.

"Yes, please—get mad at me instead of crying!" he encouraged her. At least he knew how to deal with her anger.

"You _left _us!"

"I know."

"You were too much of a jerk to just be honest with your brother!"

"I'm a huge jackass."

"You won't stay at home..." She was running out of tears faster than accusations, to Ed's relief.

"I'm a complete idiot," he added. "Not worth the clothes on my back."

"That too!" she agreed adamantly, sitting up slightly to look him in the eye. That was a bad idea, however, because when she caught sight of the apologetic gold irises looking back at her, she couldn't stop herself from attacking him, desperately molding her lips to his. She could tell he was confused, his heart not in it, and she cast her eyes downward in shame when he reached up to pull her face away. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me... If you didn't want..."

"What are you saying? I was just going to ask if you wanted to do this right now..." From what he had gathered she was either mad or sad, and neither of those conditions necessitated kissing.

"Yes, I do," she said fiercely when she realized she wasn't being rejected, and she reached up as well to pull his hands away and kiss him again, roughly, with all the passionate ire she felt inside.

"Winry..." He pulled her away again, and she gave him a frustrated, accusing look. "I have no idea what you're playing at here."

"I don't know either," she told him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down at his sides so he couldn't push her away again. "I'm so angry but... I need... you... _now._"

There was just no restraining her insistent kisses, so Ed stopped trying.

Soon enough, instincts and hormones took over and all rational thought seemed to stop. Neither hesitated, or really seemed to consider what was going on, for that matter.

Ed's mind came back to him first as his dissimilar fingers hesitated on the clasp of her bra. Somehow both of them had shed their shirts and while Winry was close to losing the aforementioned undergarment, the rough and callused mechanic's fingers were moments from freeing him from the button of his pants and revealing just how uncomfortably stiff he was getting.

"Aren't you going to stop me?" he asked, breaking the temporary silence.

It took her a moment to remember her voice. "I don't know. Do you want to stop?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

"That's what has me concerned."

"How do you figure that one? As far as I can tell there's no conflict." She hesitated and went no further, concentrating on his logic for a moment.

"Right, there's no conflict," he agreed. "That's the problem. I don't want to, you don't want to, and we don't have to, so how are we going to?"

"Let's not," she suggested, feeling daring.

Ed felt a shiver of anticipation go down his spine at those words. "Are you sure?"

"Completely," she said, totally convinced. She'd needed him to cry on even when it was he who had caused the problem, oxymoronic for sure, but Winry was positive there was never and would never be anyone else in the world who could make her need them like she needed Ed. "Are you?" she asked, turning the question on him.

"I think I always knew it would be you, Win. Even when I wouldn't say it to myself, even, I knew it... I knew I..." He paused, surprising even himself when he realized where his sentence was leading. "I love you." It sounded unsure, like a question, and he had to repeat it to be sure of what he was saying. "Yes. Yes, that's right. I love you. No, wait, why are you crying again?"

"I'm not," she said quickly, wiping her eyes, "I mean, I am, but... I don't know. I could die right now and smile, I swear."

"Would you... say it back to me?" he implored. "I want to hear you say it."

"Yes. I mean... yes. I mean... I can't even think straight. But yes! I love you! I love you so much. I don't even understand how I can love you like this and not just... explode! I don't even know, I just... feel..." she trailed off and pressed her lips to his one more time. "Yes. I love you."

* * *

**Next chapter, a surprise twist on this one, but you guys won't like it if you liked this one. **

**I must warn you, that because I have now reached the 100k-word mark, I will be seeking to resolve the plot issues in this fic so I can start work on the sequel. I've always known that I would stop this fic somewhere around 100k words/chapters--whichever came first--purely because I don't want any readers to be deterred by the prospect of reading so much stuff. Never fear--I'm too addicted to ENAT to stop writing it, so there'll definitely be a sequel, and another one, and another one, and another one, and anoth--*gets hit with a shoe* Ow! Fuck you, Winry! --Anyway, you get the picture. But just a warning, the end of ENAT the First is coming soon. I've already got it planned and, I admit, it's kinda corny, but I like it and you fluff-lovers will too.**

**If you were wondering where the title of this chapter came from, think of how those three entities collide in this chapter and it should make more sense. I don't feel like spelling it out for you, though.  
**

**I don't own FMA; please review; PEACE OUT PARTY PEOPLE!**


	72. The Y Chromosome Makes Him Stupider

"Ah—ah!" Ed squeaked in unmanly surprise as he woke up to find a pair of extremely interested blue eyes peering back at him.

"Have a good dream?" she asked mildly, distractedly.

"Why? Was I talking or something?" he asked suspiciously. If he'd been talking in his sleep that would explain why she was watching him sleep, a habit that was weird even for Winry.

"You were talking to me."

"What was I saying?" he asked with reserved in his tone.

"Umm, silly things mostly," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"Okay." Ed leaned back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling, still trying to come to terms with the fact that it had been only a dream. "So why are you watching me sleep, Winry?"

"Honestly? You were keeping me awake."

"Sorry." He looked over, past her shoulder, and saw from the window that it was still dark outside. "What time is it?"

"Late. Probably early."

"Great." He probably had a few more hours to kill before he could get to work today. Ed fell silent.

"You fallin' back asleep?" she asked when he made no move to rise.

"Nah, just too lazy to get up." He propped himself up on his metal elbow and looked at her. "Do you want me to get out of bed and let you have a few hours of sleep before sunup? I'm sorry my sleep-talking was keeping you up."

"That's not necessary," she responded. "I got a few hours and there's really no problem with the couch, anyway."

"The couch is scratchy and stiff and not comfortable at all. C'mon." He sat up and pulled the blankets off of his body, realizing as he did that he was still in the clothes he'd worn yesterday. Great, then his clothes probably reeked something fierce.

"C'mon, don't. … not on my account..." she said, holding up her hands as if stopping traffic.

"I'm getting up anyway," Ed assured her. "I have to shower, don't I?" He was already pulling off his shirt and throwing it carelessly on the floor where he would pick it up and do something with it later.

"No qualms about partial nudity," Winry commented teasingly.

"Honestly, Win, what _haven't_ you seen?" he said as he was opening and entering the bathroom.

"Is that a challenge?" she called back, loud enough so he could hear through the door.

"Maybe!"

The privacy of the bathroom was a good chance for Ed to regroup and gather his thoughts. He turned on the water so she wouldn't think he was just in here to skip out on her—even though that was basically what he was doing.

He couldn't figure out how to feel about the dream, which was in itself frustrating, but the fact that he now had to worry about what he'd said while sleep-talking just exacerbated the issue. Winry had a way of making every problem he had eight times worse.

In the end, the private time he got while in the shower didn't help him solve the issue, and actually he felt more stressed when he stepped out of the bathroom in his shorts, hair dripping, to go into the main room and rummage through his suitcase for something wearable.

When he looked up, clean shirt and pants in hand, he saw Winry, laying facedown in the bed and apparently already out cold. _I knew she was more tired than she let on,_ he thought smugly as he shrugged into his clothes and went back to get his dirty ones from the bathroom and put them in a separate pile.

Ed quickly discovered that he couldn't remember where he had put his shirt. _I took it off, threw it back behind me..._ he thought, trying to retrace his steps, _but then... Then what did I do with it? _After a few minutes of bewildered searching Ed gave up and decided to ask Winry what she had done with it when he got home later.

Technically it still wasn't a decent hour to be awake, but since Ed was afraid he'd wake Winry up if he stayed any longer, he decided to just skip out early and find something to keep himself occupied. He wouldn't be alone on the streets since a lot of the citizen volunteers actually got up this early to cook meals for the soup kitchens and stuff, so those would be open, as well as some of the food vendors and such, and furthermore it wasn't as if he couldn't take care of himself even if he _was_ caught out in some kind of danger on the streets. But just in case Winry woke up and wondered where he'd gone, Ed grabbed the pen and pad of paper compliments of the hotel and scribbled a semilegible note before he left.

* * *

Ed came back to the hotel just as tired as he had been the previous day, but at least he'd remembered to bring some dinner with him (he'd regretted skipping dinner the previous night) and there weren't any surprise marriages for him to worry about. To his surprise, Winry was a lump under the covers, and he wondered if she had really slept all day. Putting the paper bag of Xingese take-out atop the empty and fairly useless dresser, Ed went over and knelt by the side of the bed. "Winry, wake up, have you been in bed all this time?" he demanded. "C'mon, lazy, get up." He reached across and pulled the mass of blankets away from her head, then hesitated when he realized that she was crying. In her sleep.

"No..." she mumbled, and grabbed the blankets from his hand and pulled them back over herself.

"Win," he said sternly, "Wake up."

"Come back," she responded. "Come back, c'mere, c'm back..." She sobbed a little louder and rolled so she was facing away from him. "No..."

It was then that Ed realized she wasn't talking to him. "Winry, come on. What's your problem?" He grabbed her upper arm with his right arm and shook her a little. "Get up. You're dreaming."

"Ed... ward.... come... back..."

Even worse. She was dreaming _about him._ "Winry, I'm right here."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"What?" Yeah, dreamers weren't so good at keeping track of conversations.

"Winry, have you been sleeping all day?"

She seemed to come awake slowly, but at least this time her answer seemed to be relevant to the question. "No... Yes... I got up once I think."

"Why are you crying?"

"Uh... bad dream..." she mumbled, rolling over, sitting up, and wiping strands of hair out of her eyes and away from her damp skin.

"Clearly. Are you okay? If you've been asleep since this morning that's like... fifteen or sixteen hours."

"I'm fine," she said, too quickly.

Ed reached over and brushed her face with the back of his left hand. "You don't have a fever..." he said uncertainly.

"I know, 'cause I'm not sick," she snapped irritably.

"Ohh..._ kay..._" he said slowly. "Well, are you hungry? I brought food."

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"Xingese take-out."

"Ew." She scowled and shook her head. "I don't want any."

"What's wrong with Xingese?" he asked. To his knowledge, Winry was fine with Xingese take-out. "I thought you liked it."

"Not today." She got up, stepping around him and heading into the bathroom, and Ed wondered if she was skipping out on him like he'd done to her that morning.

"Well, I'm eating my share anyway," he called through the door, "And if you want any later, yours will be there."

"I won't want any."

"Great, more for me."

"Can we go out?"

"Win, this is a city recovering from the destruction of warfare, I'm sure entertainment and restaurants aren't high on their list of priorities."

"Don't tell me they don't have a single place to eat around here save for the _food lines_," came her voice from the vaguely echoing bathroom.

"I'm sure they do but, I don't get what's wrong with what's available."

"Because right now, thinking about all that greasy rice and vegetables crap that passes for Xingese makes me want to chuck my guts," she said as she came out.

"Right now?" he repeated after her, raising an eyebrow.

She scowled slightly and went over to her bag and pulled the zipper, which was already partially open with the corner of some black article of clothing sticking out.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for some money, stupid."

"What crawled up your ass this morning?" he shot back, losing patience. This comment was met by a well-aimed wrench to the skull, so Ed rephrased the question, rubbing the crown of his head and scowling. "What d'you need money for?"

"Food, get with the program." She seemed to be getting more frantic in her searching. "I can't find it!"

"What? Your money?"

"Yes!" she said, exasperated and sounding like she might cry out of sheer frustration.

"I have money," he offered.

"You don't _wanna_ go find a place to eat."

"C'mon, I'm trying to be nice here, and you're making it hella difficult," he pleaded.

She seemed to hesitate, biting her lip, then she sighed. "All right, let's go."

* * *

"Oh, look!" After walking in relative silence for what felt like together, Winry's mood had apparently shifted again.

"What?" Ed followed her gaze to a candy store and raised an eyebrow.

The part of town they had found themselves in was another one of the relatively untouched places, and whatever had been ruined was mostly fixed by now. This particular candy store seemed to get good business, and three kids with their mother walked out just as they passed by.

"C'mon, let me have like, 100 cenz," she pleaded.

"Why? You want _candy_?"

She nudged him with her elbow. "C'mon. I'll be nice to you, I promise! Please? All right, 75... Fifty, final offer."

Ed pulled out his wallet and handed her a hundred cenz. "You're being weird today," he informed her.

"No I'm not," she said quickly, ducking inside the store, followed by a bemused Ed.

"Hey, how come you're not mad at me for... uh, whatever you were mad at me before?"

"Hey, how much is this one...? No, that one on the left... What's that, Ed?" Winry quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Those are 3 cenz each," answered the girl at the counter who was only slightly older than themselves.

"Are you still mad at me?" Ed repeated.

"Um, no," she said to him, then she looked back at the counter girl. "And how about those ones?"

"Three cenz as well."

"Are the peanut butter ones any good?"

"Here, try one... for free," she offered, pulling one of the oddly shaped chocolate confections and handed it to her.

Winry bit it in half, then smiled. "Wow, this is nice. Ed, try this."

Ed allowed Winry to feed him the candy, then shrugged at the taste. No better or worse than any other candy he'd had in his lifetime. "Nice."

"Great. Give me like, six or seven of those," Winry asked, then she went over and looked at a different shelf.

Ed followed her. "So why were you yelling at me earlier?"

"Uhh, I dunno," she said absently. "Hmm, this one looks yummy, too, but is it worth the 20 cenz?"

"C'mon, can you focus, Win? You're driving me crazy."

"Oh, just chill the fuck out, Edo," she told him, purposely moving to look at a shelf that allowed her to face away from Ed. "Why don't you go look around, see if you want anything," she suggested without enthusiasm, as she drifted back toward the main counter.

* * *

"Is he your boyfriend?" the girl at the counter asked Winry casually.

"Close enough," she said, unable to give an unconditional yes.

"Good catch," she complimented, which made Winry smile.

"Kinda slow sometimes, though."

"I noticed. Let me guess, you're...?"

Winry sighed loudly. "Yeah... I feel bad, he thinks I'm mad at him."

"Aww, poor guy. At least he's innocent, though!"

* * *

When Ed came back, both of the girls were laughing about some joke he'd missed.

"You find anything you wanted?" Winry asked, almost maternally.

"No. I just walked away 'cause you dismissed me."

"Fair enough," she said, then she handed the counter girl the 100 cenz, letting her keep the change, and walked out of the store with her candy in one hand and Ed on the other.

* * *

**This chapter is purely comic relief, based on the premise that Ed hasn't lived full-time with a female around since he was eleven, and if was assume that A, Pinako is postmenopausal, B, because Izumi is always grouchy changes in her behavior would not have been noticeable and C, Winry was prepubescent when she was eleven (VERY likely but I suppsoe there are exceptions) --- Assuming A, B, and C are true, our Edo hasn't lived full-time with a female who actually gets cranky around -that time of the month- since Trisha, and of course he would've been too young to know about it then. That's what makes this chapter a likely scenario.**

**I wanted to dump some comic relief on you because I plan on trying my very hardest to end ENAT the First within two chapters, and after that I won't be posting ENATA (Every Now and Then Again, get it? get it? get it?) for a while yet, because I'll want to get ahead in the chapters and map out some kind of plan before I just fling whatever BS I can come up with at you.**

**I expect a fair amount of angry comments about this chapter, seeing as I killed your assumption that last chapter actually happened. I'm surprised no one called me out on the fact that Ed and Winry have been unofficially together for at most 3 weeks and yet they're already having sex (that was the implication, guys, IN CASE YOU DIDN'T GET IT *points at SOMEONE*) but surprisingly, no one was fazed by it at all! That was pitiful, guys. Clearly you have no respect for teen mothers! (Guys, c'mon, there's no way _Edward Elric_ has the foresight to buy rubbers, after all!) Anyway, luckily I dashed your hopes and gave Winry an abortion all in one blow.**

**I don't own FMA, hell I don't even own the socks on my feet (seriously, since socks around a certain size are one-size-fits most, my family actually has a communal sock drawer, which my little (14-almost-15-year-old) brother is NOT ALLOWED TO USE because his enorous frickin' feet stretch out the socks and make them get all balloony around the toes)) ANYWAY enough getting off topic; please review!**


	73. Every Now And Then, We Say Goodbye

**I don't own FMA.**

* * *

"What were you dreaming about?"

"What?" Ed looked up from his food and frowned at her.

"Last night? What were you dreaming about?"

"I… uh, nothing," he said quickly, shoving a big bite of spaghetti in his mouth so he could chew instead of answering any more questions.

Winry looked down at her plate. "You know how I told you that you were, um, talking in your sleep?"

"Whadda 'bout it?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full of food," she instructed absently. "It's just that…. There was something you said that I wanted to ask you about, but I don't want to demand answers out of context, so…" She trailed off tellingly.

"Well, that sucks," Ed grouched, "'cause you're not getting any information out of me until I get some info out of _you_."

"And what 'info' is _that_?" she asked, responding to his tone.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Guess."

"I could tell you the ratios of the metals in the alloy of your arm and leg; I could tell you the year in which Amestris was founded; I could tell you my favorite color; I could tell you the rules of soccer," she offered, playing dumb, "but none of that would be relevant, would it? If you've got a question, ask it already."

"I've got several questions. A whole damn list, actually."

"I'm listening."

"I'll go in chronological order, then. One: Why are you here? Two: Why have you not left now that you've found me and chewed me out, and does this imply that you have an ulterior motive? Three: What was it that you heard me say last night that has you so concerned? And four: Why the hell am I the only one out of the two of us that is concerned that you apparently slept like fifteen hours today—I'm sure I don't need to remind _you_ that that is almost definitely a sign of illness, Little Miss Doctor-Wannabe?"

"That's a long list. I hope I remember all of them," she muttered. "I'm here first and foremost to kick your ass for leaving, and my ulterior motive is getting you to come back, though given that you seem to be doing legit work, I guess that's not feasible. At least until you're done, at which time I plan on dragging you back home by your earlobe to apologize to your brother, who is put out with you to say the least. I have no ulterior motives, that's just stupid. And I refuse to tell you the answers to the other two."

Ed frowned. "You gave me half of the answers I wanted—"

"Demanded."

"Wanted," he repeated firmly, "and you only gave me answers I could have just as easily guessed. And yet you expect me to tell you the contents of my personal dreams, as if it's any of your business."

Winry put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, sighing. "I knew it would be something like that. I guess there's no point in having this conversation."

"What're you looking all depressed for?"

"Because I wanted to know if what you were saying was true."

"I could tell you if it was true if you'd tell me what I said," he hinted.

"And what if you just blow me off like always?"

_"Something was up, I could tell."_

_"You read too much into situations."_

_"You read too little into them," Al countered. "I'm surprised you didn't see it for what it was... after all, you make bailouts like that all the time."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Ed, every time something comes up in conversation that you don't want to talk about, you retreat."_

_"No, I don't." But simply saying it couldn't make it true.  
_

"Al said that too," Ed said softly.

"What? That you blow people off?"

"...Yeah."

"'Cause it's true."

"I wish it wasn't."

Winry rolled her eyes at his suddenly remorseful tone. "Bit late to be sorry about it, Ed."

"I know." There were a lot of things he was a _bit late _to be sorry about. At least this small thing was something he _could_ change. "I swear I won't this time."

"Prove it."

"...It was about you."

"The dream?"

"Yeah. It was about you." He'd of course been glancing away when he'd made this confession, but now Ed looked over to gauge her expression. She seemed pleased, satisfied, which was from his perspective a very bad thing. "What are you thinking about with that smirk? Aren't you going to tell me?"

"Yes, I'll tell you. I'll tell you what I heard, but I don't know how you're going to react."

"Just say it, quick, before you change your mind."

"'I always knew it would be you, Winry,'" she quoted, distantly staring off somewhere past his left shoulder, then her eyes flashed to his face again. "Sound familiar?"

"I... uh... well, yeah..." he stuttered. "Don't tell me you heard my side of the _entire_ dream?"

"Yeah," she said, looking sheepish. "It was weird but kind of funny, which is why I didn't want to ignore it and go to sleep. It was so funny, you have no idea... and I could tell when the version of me in your dream got mad at you, too..." She laughed, trying halfheartedly to suppress it and failing.

"What's so funny? How could you tell?"

"You kept saying 'ow!'" She covered her mouth with her hands and continued trying to repress her giggles.

Ed rolled his eyes, glad they were out of that 'tender' sticky spot. "Well, that explains how you knew I was dreaming about _you_."

She flicked one of her green beans (untouched; she wasn't in the mood for vegetables _at all_) at him. "Ass."

"Brat."

"Cad."

"Are we going alphabetically or is this just a coincidence?"

"Sure, alphabetical, why not?"

"Dunderhead, then."

Winry hesitated, then scowled at Ed. "There aren't any insults that start with E. You cheater, you got the easy one."

"You started it."

"Well, crap." She pouted and ate in silence for a few minutes until the conversation restarted (on a different topic.)

* * *

Much to Ed's vexation, he hadn't noticed at first when Winry started holding his hand. I wasn't completely his fault—she had taken hold of his _right_ hand—but he felt stupid for taking so long to notice, all the same.

They were walking back to the hotel for lack of anything better to do, and it was almost, but not quite, sunset. Ed had happened to glance down at a half-cenz coin on the ground when he realized that Winry was holding onto his right arm and of course he couldn't feel that arm, and she'd apparently taken pains not to jostle him so he'd notice. Then again, Winry was the only person in the world who could be sneaky enough to know exactly what he would and wouldn't notice when she was touching his automail.

Right now they were passing by a reconstruction project for one of the city's two courthouses, and she was saying something or other that Ed couldn't make himself listen to because he was so distracted by watching her lips moving as she talked.

He was distracted from that pastime by someone calling him from across the street.

"Hey!"

"Fullmetal!" Two someones.

Glancing over, Ed saw Zachary Bogart, a heavyset man in his late 30s whose part in the construction was limited to his financial backing (because the government wasn't covering ALL the expenses) and the occasional design input, only as a token gesture really. Zachary was panting slightly and jogging behind the much taller and leaner John Fitzgerald, the slightly younger foreman of all the construction projects going on on this block. His left hand from just above the wrist were made of automail from a saw accident when he was younger, and he had a habit of tweaking with one of the screws while he talked.

"What do you need?" Ed asked, shoving his flesh hand in his pocket (the other was already occupied, of course.)

Both Zachary and John's eyes flicked to Winry, and Ed saw John's mouth twitch in a small smirk before they focused on Ed. "You're collecting figures for Central, right?"  
"Yes, I explained that earlier when I spoke to you, Zachary. What about the figures?"

"We wanted to see if we could discuss them in some more detail with you, but if this is a bad time..." John twisted the loose screw absently.

Ed glanced at Winry, who was glaring at the poorly cared-for automail as if it was a personal offense to her, which he didn't doubt. "How long is this going to take, do you think? If it's only a few minutes then now is as good a time as ever. If it's longer we can get in touch tomorrow."

John continued twisting the screw, always the same screw. "It shouldn't be long at all, it's just that we need to get the budget reinvestigated, not your jurisdiction, I know, but we do need you to recommend it."

Ed looked at Zachary. "What's wrong with the current budget? I need more details."

Zachary motioned him a few feet away for the sake of privacy (not as if Winry wasn't a good secret-keeper, but Zachary had no way of knowing that) and John made to follow, but Winry stopped him with a hand raised. "Excuse me, how long has it been since a mechanic looked at that hand?"

John glanced down as if just becoming aware that he did indeed have a metal hand. "Well, my annual tune-up was due just before Father Cornello was sacked, but I actually hadn't had a checkup for about two years before that because the hand was working fine, so it's nearly three years, now... anyway, what does it matter to you?"

"I'm a mechanic." She patted herself down and produced a screwdriver from deep in her jacket pocket. "I designed, built, and maintain Ed's automail. C'mere, let me see that."

"His arm is a piece of artwork," John complimented, offering his left hand to her with confidence.

"Ugh, it's gotten so shabby," she muttered to herself. "What happened to _your_ mechanic?"

"Mr. Solomon and his son were shot and both shops have been abandoned. There isn't an automail mechanic for seventy miles, and I don't have time to go that far out of my way for a hand that works fairly well as it is."

"That's no good," Winry said, seeming to become lost in thought. John was silent, watching her tinker, and Ed and Zachary didn't stop her when they rejoined the group either. Eventually Winry released John's arm, scowling slightly. "I don't like it, and there wasn't much I could do without any other tools, but your thumb ought to be opposable with your other fingers, so that's an improvement, and the screws no longer stick out at odd angles like that. But get yourself to a shop, okay?"

"Dang," John said, impressed, touching each of his four fingers with his thumb and watching with amazement the new lines of movement. "Ah, but I'm sure the Fullmetal Alchemist wouldn't settle for anything less, picky as he is with _everything_."

"Thanks." She smiled and quickly seized Ed's wrist to pull him away, hating the feeling of being put on the spot by compliments.

"You fixed his hand for free?" Ed asked.

"'Fixed' is a strong word. I wouldn't even call it _functional_."

"You know, they don't have a mechanic around here."

"He told me."

Ed had to force the pace to slow down because she kept speeding up for who knew what reason. "They could use someone like you around here, Win."

"I thought about it for like three seconds, then I remembered Grandma. And the fact that we're halfway across the country and there's no way I'd move that far away from home. For anything."

"Grandma would be fine without you. She ran the shop when you were in Rush Valley, and then with me and Al and them up in Briggs. And you know, you have to think about your future, too. You can't be planning on staying in Resembool forever?"

"Are you trying to convince me to set up shop here?" she asked, frowning a little.

"Not really, I guess... but think about it. There's no mechanic in this town, so whoever sets up shop first will probably get loads of business, and how convenient that it's in a city whose economy is perched on the brink of picking up hugely, once some of these projects get completed. Five years and this place'll be as huge as it was—bigger than it was, actually—under Cornello. Think about it."

"I am thinking, Ed and I think it's something to think about for the _distant_ future. Maybe we should concentrate on the present. Or at most, the near future."

"Fine. What near-future events do you have on your mind?"

"Mostly, going home. Al's still there, and I haven't written yet... oh, they're going to be mad at me!"

"Relax." Ed nudged her with his elbow. "I _never_ write home, and nothing bad ever happens to me."

"Ugh. You brat." She elbowed him back.

He dodged it. "See? Nothing bad ever happens to me."

Winry rolled her eyes. "'Cause you're sneaky and untrustworthy, not on your _merits_."

"I disagree." Ed stopped her and leaned in like he was going to kiss her, but didn't.

"Oh?" she asked to make him finish the thought.

"I think I get away with it almost entirely on my merits." _Now_ he kissed her.

When they broke apart, Winry dared to grab his _left_ hand. "C'mon, let's go back."

* * *

**I think that's a nice note to end ENAT. It doesn't directly wrap up all the loose ends but the implication that they are now all wrapped up or will be soon is clear. Somewhat corny last line, but then, this fic was never too worried about corniness. I'm sad to see ENAT go, and judging by the reviews you guys are too, but luckily the stories in my head are far from over, and it shouldn't be long before ENATAgain is here. Expect a delay of a few weeks, I plan on getting pretty far ahead of the curve, plus I'll be writing oneshots to get rid of plot bunnies, and my oher fic, PARALELL, will get some more attention (I have some interesting thoughts for that one as well, but I won't go into detail 'cause I'm half sure y'all won't care.) Wave goodbye to ENAT and stand by for ENATAgain, (add me to Author Alert, that's my suggestion) and THANK YOU SO MUCH for sticking with me 'till the end.**


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